


He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother

by MarmeLady_Orange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Adopted Sam, Adoptive father Castiel, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Attempted Murder, Bisexual Dean, Bottom Dean, Caretaker Castiel, Depression, Divorced Castiel, Drug Dealing, Fights, First Time Bottoming, Foster Kid Dean, Gunshot Wounds, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Injured Dean Winchester, Injury Recovery, Lies, M/M, Masturbation, May/December Relationship, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, No Underage Sex, Orphan Dean, Orphan Sam, Pansexual Castiel, Pining Dean, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Running Away, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Stabbing, Top Castiel, Trans Character, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 82,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8309293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: .After their parents die in the fire of their home, four year-old Dean Winchester ends up in foster care while baby Sam gets adopted. Fourteen years later, Dean leaves Sonny’s Home for Boys to look for his brother. What he finds is the Novaks, a family torn apart by secrets and lies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The day has finally come… kinda proud of that one, if I may say so myself. I got the idea, I don’t think I had posted last year’s DCBB yet. I might even have started writing it before that last posting. For some reason, I found the idea of Dean getting with his brother’s adoptive father quite… interesting. (But Cas isn’t Dean’s adoptive father… I didn’t feel like going THAT far. Well, that would be far for me anyway.)
> 
> I can only hope that you will like this little AU of mine, and I kind of hope you’ll find it a bit cringy too. Because yeah, that was the main drive behind the idea. Like, sexy-cringe… (is there such a thing? who knows, maybe I’m just weird, which I totally accept).
> 
> I wanna thank my formidable betas… I know I ask a lot of them, and they’re always so generous with me. Look them up, they’re totally awesome:
> 
> outofminutes on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/outofminutes/pseuds/outofminutes)  
> MercuryStardust on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryStardust) or [Tumblr](liz-lzaz.tumblr.com)  
>   
> Last, but certainly not least, is my magnificent artist, GoodQuestion. She’s such a cool girl and I’m real glad to have been chosen by her. You’ll see her work as you read on, or you can just visit her [DeviantArt](http://gqharlie.deviantart.com/) or [Tumblr](http://goodquestionharlie.tumblr.com/) and tell her how great she is.

  

 

“I don’t think you’ll be coming back.”

Dean does his best to keep smiling as Robin’s eyes fill up with tears. He wants to reassure her, but can’t bring himself to make promises he knows he can’t keep.

“I gotta find my brother, babe. He’s the only family I got.” Robin nods and hides her face in the crook of his neck. “Plus, you’re going to college. If anything, you’re the one who won’t be coming back here.”

“For you, I would,” she mumbles, her lips on his skin. “And New York City isn’t that far, you know. I’ll be back for holidays and stuff. You could even come and see me at school from time to time.”

Dean inhales, trying to keep his own tears at bay because she’s right. He could stay in Brockport and keep working at Sonny’s while she goes off to Juilliard, but deep inside he knows it would only be delaying the inevitable.

“I can’t make any plans until I find Sammy, you know that. I wish there was another way.”

Instead of answering, Robin joins her lips to Dean’s as she lays a soft hand on his jaw. They kiss for a while and when the time comes to go their separate ways, their cheeks are both damp with tears.

Dean stays on the porch swing as he watches her walk to her car, wiping his eyes in a single motion. She turns to him and smiles one last time before driving away. It almost feels like she’s taking Dean’s heart with her as she does. 

Some time later, Sonny comes out to sit next to Dean on the swing. He pulls out a pack of Pall Mall from his shirt pocket and offers one to the teenager. He nods his thanks and takes one.

“You okay?” the older man asks, who doesn’t insist when Dean nods again. “You know, if you were to change your mind, I’d be happy to help you out. You could stay here and help me with the boys. Even though I think you should go to college instead.”

“I don’t have cash for school, Sonny. And you don’t either.”

“Dude, you’re scary smart, you’d get a full ride, I’m sure. Even if not, I’ve got some cash stacked up and I’d invest in your future in a heartbeat. It’s just a shame that you’ve never even bothered to apply.”

Letting out a plume of smoke, Dean chuckles. “You know I gotta do this, Sonny. Maybe after I find my brother I’ll think about school, but I can’t right now.”

Sonny nods, sympathetic. Dean has been telling Sonny about his plans since being brought to him four years ago. He would have left the second he hit eighteen years old except Sonny had been able to convince him to at least finish high school. Small victories, he’d said…

The man takes an envelope from his back pocket and hands it to Dean. “It’s not much, but it’s the least I can do,” he says.

“Sonny, man… I don’t need your cash—”

“Dean, this is yours, you’ve earned it. If you won’t accept it as a payment for all the stuff you’ve done around here then take it as a graduation gift.”

There is quite a bit of heat in Dean’s cheeks when he takes the envelope. Inside, he finds five hundred bucks and a train ticket to Lawrence.

“That’s way too much, Sonny.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, you’ve earned it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I swear I will.”

“Damn boy, can’t you just take the gift and say thanks?” the older man says, dropping his cigarette butt in a rusted coffee can. He stomps back into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind him.

Despite the irate tone of his mentor, Dean can’t help but smile, knowing the man isn’t really mad. Clutching the cash and ticket in one hand, Dean drops his own cigarette in the makeshift ashtray before following Sonny inside.

Dean finds him sitting at the table in the kitchen, already with a tumbler of whiskey in hand.

“I’m sorry, Sonny. I’m grateful, I really am. Thanks!” Dean says in a single breath. Once again, he feels the sting of tears in his eyes, but is able to keep the waterworks from flowing. The older man doesn’t seem to be doing as good as he is though.

“Promise you’ll be careful?” 

Dean almost loses it when he spots a tear rolling down Sonny’s cheek.

“Yeah… I swear!”

“Good. You know I’ll always be there for you, right? If anything—”

“Jeez, dude! I know, all right? Don’t worry about me.”

Dean’s half-hearted dismissal doesn’t work on Sonny and the man gets up to hug him. “You’re such a dumb and stubborn kid! I’ll be missin’ ya!”

“I know, me too,” Dean replies as he hugs Sonny back, ending it with two solid claps on the man’s back. “I’ll give you news as soon as I can,” he promises as he walks back a couple of paces.

“You better!” Sonny downs the last of his whiskey. “What time do you wanna leave tomorrow?”

“Says here the train’s at ten fifteen so as long as I get there before nine thirty I’m good, I guess.” Dean looks over the ticket. “You think there’s a food car?”

“I think so… Ruth still wants to pack you some snacks. Just don’t fight her on it.”

“I won’t,” Dean says with a smile, hoping the snacks will hold at least a couple of her pecan bars. “I’ll go hit the hay.”

“Good idea. You might wanna stop by the kids’ room and say your goodbyes. In case you don’t got time tomorrow.”

“I will. Good night, Sonny!”

“See you tomorrow.”

Dean takes his time walking to the back of the house, soaking up as many memories as he can. He may have only spent a little over four years at Sonny’s Home For Boys, it’s still the place he’s been the longest at and by far the only one he’s ever felt at home, or even safe.

None of the foster homes had been the right fit for him, which probably explains why nobody ever attempted to adopt him. Or maybe the constant running away and committing petty crimes hadn’t helped either. Getting dropped by the local sheriff at Sonny’s had been the first real positive thing to happen to Dean, even though it took him some time to come to terms with it.

When he finally gets to the younger boys’ dorm room, Dean is somewhat relieved to find them asleep. Not that he doesn’t want to say goodbye – he’d rather not have to do it a second time the next day. He’s closing the door when he hears Timmy call after him.

“Dean?”

Dean’s heart drops in his heels. He opens the door again to see Timmy sitting up in his bed. He sighs then waves his hand for the boy to come out of the room. There’s no point in waking up the others.

“What’s up, buddy?” Dean says in a low voice after closing the door again.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Timmy’s eyes are burning a hole into his skull, too innocent to bear.

“I know, buddy, but I have to. I explained it all to you, didn’t I? I gotta find my brother.”

“But you don’t even know him. And you said I was your brother.”

“That’s never changing, buddy. I’m not leaving forever you know.”

“Yeah, you are. Everybody always leaves forever. I’ll be all alone.”

Dean forces himself to chuckle, if only to prevent himself from bawling in front of the kid. “What do you mean, you’ll be all alone? What about Sonny? Or Ruth, or Jack, or Max and all the other kids?”

“I like you best. Don’t go… I’ll be good, all right?”

And there are the tears again, prickling at Dean’s eyeballs while the six year old starts sniffling.

“Timmy, I swear this has nothing to do with you. Tell you what,” Dean says as he takes his phone from his pocket, “What if I give you my phone? This way, you could send me messages and even call me whenever you want.”

“But then you won’t have a phone.”

“I’ll buy another one and call to give you the number. Then we can talk whenever we want. Do we have a deal?”

When Timmy smiles through his tears, it’s like a balm over Dean’s aching heart. The fact that he’d have to ask Sonny to leave even earlier doesn’t bother him. Not as long as it means his favorite little guy will stop crying.

The next morning, Dean wakes up early to finish packing then goes to help Ruth prepare breakfast. The older woman is a bit on the gruff side, but she’s always had a soft spot for Dean and his ravenous appetite. 

And as Dean helps one last time preparing the meal, he doesn’t say a thing about the mist in her eyes or the trembling of her chin. He knows. Instead, he lets his tight hug speak for him when he thanks her for the snacks she stuffed in his duffel. 

It’s only when he’s sitting on the train that he can finally breathe. He’s been lucky enough to find a window seat and he makes sure to keep his eyes on the scenery. He doesn’t cry as he lets himself mourn the best four years of his life.

  

It’s late afternoon the next day when Dean steps down off the train in Lawrence. According to the address on his dad’s car deed, Turner’s Garage shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes away by foot. There’s a slight chance they might be done for the day when he gets there still he doesn’t want to splurge on a taxi. 

He adjusts the duffel on his shoulder and starts walking, uncaring about the growl in his stomach. He had scarfed down most of Ruth’s snacks pretty early on after departure and he had found the food pretty expensive on board. Save for a couple of sandwiches and sodas, he hadn’t had much to eat in the last day and a half.

As fate would have it, what he finds at the address isn’t an auto shop but a Biggerson’s diner. He checks the deed again; it had been issued right after his parents’ death by John Winchester’s boss, Rufus Turner – fourteen years ago.

Convinced he’s at the right place, he walks in and heads for the cash register. A pretty brunette greets him with a smile. “Welcome to Biggerson’s, my name is Eve. Come to pick up an order?”

“No—huh—I’m looking for Turner’s Garage. The address I got brought me here. Do you know where they might have moved?”

“I’m sorry, never heard of them. So, are you gonna eat or…?” 

Eve shrugs and turns away when Dean shakes his head. He’s on his way out when someone grabs his arm.

“You won’t find Rufus anywhere around these parts, boy.”

The hand on his sleeve belongs to a dark woman in her early fifties. She’s looking at him intently, a cup of tea and an untouched piece of blueberry pie in front of her.

“Sit,” she orders gently. “You took your sweet ol’ time getting here, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, but… who the hell are you?” Dean asks as he sits in front of the woman.

She pinches her lips and scowls at him before taking the deed from his hand. “I guess I shouldn’t expect an orphan boy to have any type of manners.” She flattens the piece of paper and slides it back to Dean. “The name’s Missouri. I take it that you’re Dean Winchester, then? Where’s your baby brother, boy?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me. I—I don’t know where my brother’s at. He was adopted as a baby.”

“And not you? Well isn’t that a shame,” she says as she pats the teenager’s hand, then clucks her tongue. “I can’t believe they’d separate siblings like that. Do you at least know where he is?”

“No, I don’t. That’s also why I’m here, I wanna find him. So, about Rufus Turner… you know him?”

“That was quite the tragedy, that fire. It shocked the whole neighborhood to the core.” She sips on her tea and hums, shaking her head. “Such a pity that you boys didn’t have family left to claim you.”

Dean nods politely, hoping the older woman will soon get to whatever point she’s trying to make. He doesn’t need to hear about his own sob story from some old lady he doesn’t even know.

“Rufus sold the place nine years ago. He didn’t wanna work no more, said he wanted to retire somewhere in the South.” She sips on her tea, unbothered by Dean’s evident impatience. “He retired all right, but in a wooden box rather than in the sun. Less than a year into his retirement too.”

“What about my dad’s car? Do you know where it’s at?”

“Well, I don’t know about that one car. I know Rufus sold most of his inventory to an old army buddy of his. He, too, was in the business of cars, he said. So I would imagine it includes your father’s car, yes.”

“Do you know the guy? Can I call him?”

“Well, you’re in luck because Rufus gave me his friend’s information back in the day. I told him you boys would no doubt show up eventually. And here you are.”

The woman fumbles with her handbag for a full minute before handing Dean a faded Turner’s Garage business card. On the back he finds a scribbled name and partial address.

“Bobby Singer, Singer’s Auto, Sioux Falls, South Dakota,” he reads out loud. “What, no phone number?”

“Boy, with that internet thing you kids are always playin’ on, I’m sure you’ll find what you need.” Missouri gets up to leave, dropping a couple of bills on the table. “You go ahead and eat a bit, I ordered it for you after all. This covers the price of your own cup o’ joe too if you want some. I wish you a nice life, Dean Winchester,” she concludes before walking away, leaving a bewildered Dean to sit alone.

He’s still trying to wrap his head around the weird meeting when Eve brings him a fresh cup of coffee and pockets the cash. “I see you met the town’s psychic. She’s a spooky one that one,” she comments before walking away.

It takes a minute for Dean to shake himself from his haze. His stomach growls again and he jumps on the pie as if he hadn’t eaten for days – which is not too far from the truth. It doesn’t take him long to finish and he’s tempted to treat himself to a second piece. As he looks around to find the usual specials board, he catches sight of a poster announcing free Wi-Fi.

He grabs his – Sonny’s – old laptop and starts it up. All he really wants now is to find that Singer guy’s phone number and ask about his car. Except it’s not as easy as it should have been. He finds the salvage yard’s address except the listed phone number doesn’t work. He fumbles around a bit, trying to find the number to a Bobby or Robert Singer in Sioux Falls, without success. Maybe the guy too is dead, which probably means his dad’s Impala will be long gone.

Still, he notes the address he finds and shuts the laptop closed. It’s already past six and there’s no way the Social Services office is still open. He remembers walking by a cheap motel on his way and decides to walk back there, stopping at a supermarket to get a huge bag of peanut butter M&Ms and barbecue chips. 

He goes to grab a sixer of El Sol but stops, the thought of Sonny’s disapproving stare on him enough to change his mind. He’s worked too hard to let himself go back to his bad habits the second he’s on his own. He picks up a couple of root beers instead, mostly because it’s called beer and totally harmless. And he fucking loves the stuff.

All he needs now is to get himself a room and fill up on crap food as he dozes off watching free cable TV.

  

When he gets to the Social Services building the next morning, Dean is a bit early. He goes to stand next to a redhead who’s waiting by the door, bobbing her head to some peppy tune he can hear coming out of her earbuds. He can’t say he recognizes the song, but he still finds himself tapping his toes.

“Whatcha listenin’ to?” Dean asks the girl. When she keeps bobbing her head without answering, Dean waves a hand in front of her face. She lets out a small squeal, startled.

“Whatcha listenin’ to?” he repeats, pointing to her ears.

The girl laughs and takes one of the earbuds out to offer it to Dean. “ _Walking on Sunshine_ , KC & the Sunshine Band. You like?”

Dean takes the offered earpiece and puts it in his own ear. Yeah, he’s heard the tune before. It does nothing much for him as he’s more of a classic rock kinda guy anyway.

“Meh… it’s okay,” he says, giving her back the earpiece. “It’s no Zeppelin though. You know Zeppelin?”

She laughs again. “Well, yeah! Who doesn’t? Not my fave though.” She drops her mp3 player in her messenger bag before extending a hand. “My name’s Charlie. And you are…?”

_Oh, I’m so in_ , Dean thinks as he takes the offered hand. “I’m Dean. So, what’s got you here this early?”

“Meeting my therapist,” she says with a wink. “How ‘bout you?”

“I wanna find my brother. He was adopted a long time ago.”

“They do this here?”

“I hope so.”

Charlie nods, squinting her eyes as she looks up at the sky. “My ex wanted to find her mom a couple of years ago.” She opens her messenger bag again to take out a notepad and pen. “If your brother knows he’s been adopted, he may be looking for his birth family. Go to that website and create a profile. Put in every detail you got, however small.”

“That’s it? Create a profile and hope the kid sees it?”

“Pretty much. It worked for her. I mean, if they can’t help you here. And even if they can you should do it anyway.” She takes back the page she had ripped out for Dean and scribbles some more on it. “Look, I know my way around computers. Just call if you need help, all right?”

Convinced he’s about to score, Dean ignores the ex-girlfriend info and puts a soft hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “That’s awfully nice of you, Charlie. What do you say we go get a coffee after your appointment? You know, get to know one another. You could tell me more about the website and stuff.”

Charlie’s laughter confirms what Dean had already kind of guessed. “Aw, man! I thought you had picked-up on the girlfriend thing. Proud lesbian here!”

“Yeah… no, I knew that,” Dean says, still hoping to save face. “It’s just, you know, there are people that like both so I thought I’d give it a try,” which only makes Charlie laugh harder.

“Nope, not one of those,” she assures him. “It’s all about the women, my friend.” Charlie jabs an elbow in his side. “Even if I’d been very much into you, I gotta go to work after this. I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

Dean nods toward the door that’s being unlocked. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Charlie. Thanks again for your help,” he says as they get inside.

“Same here, Dean. Until we meet again.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean, you can’t help me?”

As much as he tries to keep his composure, Dean can say that after four hours and about as many different government employees, his patience is running thin. It doesn’t help that the lady he’s sitting with is frustratingly calm.

“It’s the law, Mr. Winchester,” Mrs. Stark says. “Your brother was adopted. Technically, or at least legally, there’s nothing left tying you two together.”

“How about our fucking DNA?”

“Sadly, it’s irrelevant.” The woman gives Dean a tight smile. “Look, the adoption is sealed and there’s nothing we can do about it. Not until he turns eighteen that is. Then you can come see us again and we’ll see what we can do. In the meantime, there are many internet resources you can use in case your brother ever tries to find you.” 

“This girl I met gave me this,” Dean says as he slides Charlie’s note to the social worker. “Says her ex found her mom on it.”

Maggie nods, pushing the note back to Dean. “This is one of the sites, yes, but I’d encourage you to leave your informations on as many sites as you can.” She opens a drawer to pull out a sheet of paper. “Here’s a lists of sites we recommend. The one your friend gave you is on there as well. Who knows, maybe your brother’s already looking for you.”

The social worker gets up and walks to Dean, who gets up as well. “I really hope you can find your brother again, Dean.”

As she speaks, she guides the younger man to exit her office. “You have my card. If you think there’s anything I can help you with, please don’t hesitate.”

Mrs. Stark closes the door on Dean before he can say another word, let alone thank her. Dispirited by how unfruitful his day was, he goes back to the motel. After almost inhaling his take-out cheeseburger and fries because he’s so hungry, he decides to call Sonny.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Sonny… it’s Dean.”

“D-Dog! Was hoping I’d hear from ya! You got there all right?”

“Yeah, thanks! Nothing’s working out though. The car’s not here, it may be in South Dakota. And unless my brother’s already looking for me, I can’t do shit as long as he’s underage.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo… adoptions can be a bitch. But… what’s that you say about your dad’s car? What the hell’s it doing in South Dakota?”

“My dad’s old boss sold his inventory to a friend before passing the bucket. So that’s where I’m heading.”

“Need money?”

“No thanks, Sonny, I’m good. Still got most of what you gave me. Gonna grab myself a bus ticket ‘cause the train’s too damn expensive. It’s not like anyone’s waiting for me anyway.”

Dean waits, hoping Sonny will believe the bus thing. If he knew Dean actually intended on hitchhiking, it wouldn’t go so well.

“You know I could—”

“Thanks, Sonny, you’ve done enough as it is. So, how’s everybody doing?”

“The boys are fine, they miss ya. We all do.”

“As soon as I get the car, I’ll be coming back. There’s nothing I can do about Sam anyway, might as well head on home.”

“We’ll be glad to have you back, you know that.”

Dean smiles, his mentor’s words filling his whole being with warmth. “Yeah, I know. I’ll tell you what’s happening as soon as I know.”

“You better. Take care of yourself, Dean!”

“You too! Thanks, Sonny!”

Dean hangs up, a little ashamed of lying to the man who had done so much for him. Except he knows that Sonny would have insisted on paying for another train ticket. Seeing how expensive they were had been enough for Dean to consider taking the bus. Much less expensive, but it’d take sixteen hours to get somewhere a car could get him in six.

At least that’s how Dean rationalizes the fact when he’s trying to catch a ride on Second Street the next morning. He’s lucky enough to have some trucker take him as far as Randolph, MO. It’s a bit of a detour, but not by much. It takes close to an hour for another dude to pick him up and let him off right outside Smithville. 

Then it’s about two hours of walking along US-169 trying to catch a ride, all of which has him starting to regret not taking the bus after all. It may have been a sixteen hour trip, but at least he’d be moving and sitting somewhat comfortably as he did.

He’s just about to admit defeat when a rickety Ford Ranchero comes to a stop a little ahead of him. The driver has his hazards on and waves a hand out the window. Dean jogs to catch up to him.

“Where you goin’, hombre?” Inside the car is a skinny man with a smile that’s a little too big. Creepy.

“Gotta get to South Dakota. Sioux Falls.”

“On my way to Fort Calhoun myself. Whatta you say I drop you off in Omaha? Would that work for ya?”

Dean hesitates, but only for a second. The guy could just be the smiling type. And with him being so skinny, Dean’s not worried that he’d be able to knock him out cold should the guy get any funny ideas.

“Thanks, man! I was just about to try and find a bus to hop on.”

“That could have taken a while. I’m Garth, by the way. Wanna tell me your name or are you travelling incognito?” he says as they start moving again.

“Dean.”

Garth’s smile widens. “Glad to make your acquaintance, Dean. You thirsty? Got some water in the backseat if you want.”

Dean’s actually parched and thanks Garth as he grabs a bottle from the cooler. He almost downs it all in one go while Garth tries to make conversation.

“So, what’s waitin’ for you in Sioux Falls? Or should I say who? Some cute girl, I bet. She’s gotta be real special for you to hitchhike all the way over there.”

“Nah, no girl. Not really, anyway. Going to get my dad’s old car. A ‘67 Impala.”

“Nice, a classic. Your old man’s got taste.”

After Garth drops him in Omaha, Dean has no problem finding ride after ride and he’s able to make it to Sioux Falls before dark. Singer Auto isn’t too hard to find as Dean had been dropped off close enough to reach the place a mere fifteen minute walk later. 

Not seeing anything resembling an office, he walks in the lot to find someone, ignoring the barking dog pulling on its chain. He eventually spots some dude in overalls with his head buried deep in the hood of a purple Miata.

“Mr. Singer? Mr. Bobby Singer?”

“Who’s askin’?” the man answers in a gruff voice without bothering to look up.

“Hum… my name’s Dean Winchester. I got a deed here for my dad’s car. He used to work for Rufus Turner fifteen years ago?”

Now that seems to catch the older man’s attention. He comes out of hiding and walks up to Dean, readjusting his trucker cap as he does.

“Never thought anyone would show up for that old piece o’ junk. Got the note, son?”

Dean nods and gives him the folded piece of paper. The bearded man squints as he tries to read. “Damnit, Rufus! You couldn’t write for shit!” He looks at Dean again, trying to appraise him. “Got an I.D. or som’thin’? See, I wouldn’t wanna give that car to ya if it ain’t really yours.”

Once more reaching into his pocket, Dean takes out his wallet to show the man his drivers license.

“Looks about right. Follow me.” Bobby doesn’t wait for Dean to answer and starts walking. “You better keep up, boy. It’s like a maze in here.”

So Dean follows the man closely, hoping none of the piles of junk will fall on them – some did look right about to collapse. As they approach some sort of shed, Dean spots what he’s come here to find: his dad’s old Impala. Except it’s not as pristine as he had hoped it would be.

“That’s it? That’s my dad’s car?” he asks, disheartened by all the rust patches and cracked rear windshield.

“That’s what it says here. It’s been sittin’ for fifteen years, boy. You can’t expect it to be ready to go to the ball.”

“You think I could drive it back home?”

Bobby shrugs. “Hell if I know. All I had to do was keep it for ya. Keys should be in the glove compartment,” he says as Dean opens the door to sit behind the wheel.

He finds the keys, but nothing happens when he tries to start the engine. After trying a couple more times, Dean gets out. “How much to make it work again?”

“Probably too much, unless you’re loaded?”

“Not loaded, no. Got about four hundred bucks.”

“Ya ain’t goin’ nowhere with that here, boy. I could buy it from ya, scavenge it for parts.”

Dean shakes his head, appalled. “No way, man! I’m not letting you rip her apart. Look, I know a little bit about cars. What if I did the work myself?”

“You can. I could get the flatbed and move your car wherever. Still in Lawrence?”

“No… I was actually thinking I could leave it here. You know, find a room in town and come work on the car.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Bobby huffs. “And why would I let you do that? I work alone and would like to keep on doing that.”

“I won’t bother you, I swear. I’ll look for my own parts and pay you for whatever I end up using. Please.”

“Oh, fine!” Bobby says after apparently failing to find a good enough reason to refuse. “You can come back in the morning. We open at nine,” Bobby says before shooing him away.

“Thanks, Mr. Singer. I won’t stay in your hair for long. Could you just tell me where I can find a motel?”

“There’s a couple of cheap ones on 12th, some streets over that way.”

“Thanks again. See you tomorrow, Mr. Singer.”

  

His third morning in, Dean sees the otherwise elusive Bobby coming to find him.

“So… how’s it going?” the man asks, although the car doesn’t look much different than before.

“A lot of work needs to be done, that’s for damn sure. All I want right now is to be able to drive her back home and get outta your hair.”

“Look, son, I’m not kickin’ you out or anything.” The older man comes closer to look at the engine Dean’s been working on. “Where did you learn to work on cars?”

“I didn’t. Not really anyway. Sonny showed me the basics, changing the oil and stuff. Other than that, I’m pretty much winging it.”

Bobby gives out an impressed hum. “For an amateur, you’re doing pretty well. Which reminds me… I came here ‘cause I have something to ask you.”

Dean straightens up, ready to be asked to fork over more cash to the man.

“I got this friend that’s comin’ in later. Her car needs a bit of a tune-up, oil change and what not. You think you could do that for me? I’ll pay ya.”

It takes Dean no more than a second to make up his mind. “Well, yeah, of course. No need to pay me, though. You let me work here for free so—”

“Look, I ain’t runnin’ no sweatshop. You’ll take the money and shut up or else Jody’ll have my balls for breakfast.”

Seeing the old man get heat in his cheeks is almost enough for Dean to start cackling, but he resists the temptation. To be honest, getting some money would help pay for his room in town.

It’s as if Bobby has been reading Dean’s mind when he speaks again. “I also wanted to say… they’re forecasting a lot of rain in the next days so I thought we could move your car inside,” he says, pointing his thumb to the metal shed. “I also got a folding cot I could put in there so you wouldn’t have to pay for a motel. It’s not the Ritz, but if it’s only for a couple more nights—”

“Are you for real?” Dean says, not inclined to believe there’d be no strings attached. He’s had to deal with some handsy dudes at a couple of foster homes and like hell he’s gonna go through that again. “What’s in it for you, old man?”

“Look, the more you can work on your piece of junk, the sooner you’ll get outta here. If that’s not reason enough for ya—”

“No, all right, I get it. I’ll work on your friend’s car. Then I’ll make sure the Impala’s good and running before the week’s over.”

Both men may have been acting all rough and tough, but Dean’s lips still can’t help quirking up. “Really, thanks Bobby,” he says, prompting the older man to huff and walk away.

Another two weeks later, Dean is working more for Bobby than on his own car and learning a whole lot in the process. By the end of the first month, Dean is welcomed in the old man’s home with a room of his own and three meals a day.

He’s been in Sioux Falls for about nine months when he gets a call from Charlie Bradbury.

“Hey, Dean!”

“Hey, Charlie… what’s up?”

“Same old, same old. I got some news for you.”

Dean puts down the sander and leans on the Impala’s body. They had kept in contact these last months and she had insisted on doing her own research to try and find out about Sam’s whereabouts.

“Good news?”

“Be ready to kiss my feet the next time you see me, Winchester. I found Sam!”

“What? You did?” Letting his body slide to the ground, Dean fights against the tears prickling his eyes. “Where is he? Is he all right?”

“I haven’t seen him or anything, but I know who adopted him. He’s in Pontiac, Illinois. His parents are Castiel and Hannah Novak. Divorced, though… from what I could gather, the mom’s not even in the picture anymore.”

“Son of a bitch! Charlie, that’s huge! How do you even find this stuff?”

“Illegally, mostly. You’ll be happy to know that they kept his name, though. Samuel Novak. Brilliant kid if his school records are anything to go by.”

“Charlie, I could kiss you right now!”

She laughs, delighted. “Told you, you can kiss my feet. Actually, next time we see each other, you gotta take me to dinner. And not the cheap kind!”

“Anything you want; big ass steak, champagne, caviar, you can have it all.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Just one thing though; Keep it on the downlow? He’s still a minor so you could get in trouble if you—”

“Don’t worry about me, Charlie. Just—thank you.”

“My pleasure, Dean. If I still had a family, I’d want to find them too.”

“Well, it ain’t much, but you can think of me as your family, Charlie. Seriously.”

When she thanks him, Dean can hear the slight tremor in her voice. An orphan just like him, she had spent half of her teens in foster care. So the idea of having a family, even fabricated, would certainly be enough to make either of them cry.

“And you’re mine, Dean. For ever and ever,” she promises before hanging up.

At dinner that night, Dean tells Bobby how he’s found his brother and that he’ll be leaving as soon as the Impala is ready.

“So what? A couple of weeks?”

Dean considers the work that still needs to be done. “More like a month while I help you in the shop. Which is fine by me, we’ll be a couple of months into spring so clear roads, you know?”

“Gotta say, I’ve gotten used to you being here. It’ll be awfully lonely. And, well, I kinda liked not having to work as much.” The faint smile on Bobby’s face is almost enough to make Dean reconsider.

“Maybe I could wait until you find a new apprentice?” he offers, even though it kind of breaks his heart to do so. He owes the man too much to not even think of offering.

“Don’t be an idjit, boy! You go on and find your brother, I’ll manage just fine. Just gettin’ lazy in my old age, is all.”

And without another word, the older man resumes eating, dipping a piece of buttered bread in his rabbit stew.

  

It takes Dean a little longer than expected to leave Sioux Falls. Which means he gets to Pontiac in late June rather than May as he had hoped.

Before he left, Bobby gave him some money. Not unlike Sonny had done, he argued that Dean had earned every cent of that twelve hundred bucks. “If I hadn’t been feeding your ass, I’d have given you a lot more, but you’re like a bottomless pit,” he had said before hugging the life out of him.

Dean’s first stop in Pontiac is, once again, the cheapest motel he can find and it’s hella cheap, too. Both in price and accommodations. Once his meager possessions have been transferred into the room, he rides the Impala around town to visit the addresses Charlie gave him. The high school is easy to find as it sits on a main street, but the Novaks’ home takes a little bit of time.

When Dean finds it, he can’t help the sparks of envy that flicker in his heart; his brother had hit the jackpot. The home isn’t overly large, but still big enough to be on the impressive side with its two-car garage independent from the main house. The terrain itself is huge and Dean could easily imagine his kid brother having a blast riding a lawnmower over the whole thing. He knows he himself certainly would.

He stays parked in front of the house for a while, taking it all in. Clearly these people reside in the upper class, far from Dean’s own. That idea cements itself when a silver convertible – a brand spanking new Mercedes – rolls in the driveway. A second later, the front door opens to let out a lanky teenager with shaggy hair. He jumps into the car and kisses the brunette who quickly drives away, making the tires screech.

Dean is about to follow them when a movement on the front porch draws his attention. A man in a white shirt and navy slacks is running out the door and into the street.

“Samuel Novak! Come back here this instant!” he yells although the kid is already too far to hear. Dean glances in his mirror to catch a glimpse of the car as it breaks and turns onto another street.

“Fuck!” the man yells, punching the air in frustration. It’s enough for Dean to start wondering about his brother’s well-being.

“What?” Mr. Novak says when he spots Dean’s staring at him. At this point, Dean decides he has no good reason to be there and drives away. If his brother is in trouble, he’ll make sure to help him, all in due time.


	3. Chapter 3

On his way back to the motel, Dean makes a detour to stop at the diner he spotted near Sam’s high school. When he sees the silver Mercedes in the parking lot he laughs out loud, thinking that the stars may be on his side for once.

The joint seems to be a popular one, especially among teenagers. As he goes to take a seat at the counter, he spots his brother in a booth with the brunette from earlier and two other guys, one looking a bit old to be hanging around high school kids.

“What’ll it be?”

Dean turns to see a woman waiting to take his order. Standing next to her is a much younger girl.

“I got this, mom,” the cute blonde says as she pushes the older woman with her hip. The mother huffs and walks away, but not without sending a warning glare to Dean. “So, what can I get you?” the girl says, her smile a little too bright to be all that innocent.

Dean hums as he looks over the menu. “Says here you got pie? What kind?”

“Usually we do, but it’s not ready yet. We just sold the last piece,” she says, pointing to a lady sitting a couple of stools from him.

“Story of my life,” Dean says as he continues to read through the menu.

“We got some cake if you’ve got a sweet tooth,” the blonde says again, making Dean purse his lips.

“Nah, not a cake guy. Just bring me a cheeseburger and fries. Oh, and a root-beer float too.”

“Very well,” the girl says as she goes to write his order in. When she comes back with the float, she pushes the glass toward him with a crooked smile. “My name’s Jo, by the way. New in town or just new at Harvelle’s?”

“New in town, yeah.” 

All Dean wants is for the girl to go away so he can keep an eye on his brother, but she stays close, apparently real curious about him.

“We don’t get many new people around here. Especially not young people, you know? You in high school or something?”

Dean chuckles. “Nah, I’m done with that. Just driving around.”

“That’s so cool… I wish I could do that too, but I gotta work here. It’s my mom’s place, you know?”

As if she had been summoned, the older woman reappears next to her daughter. “Joanna Beth! Stop your chit-chattin’ and get to work. You’ve got two tables waiting for their checks.”

Jo gives Dean a sheepish smile and leaves to do as her mother asked. Without missing a beat, the woman turns to Dean.

“Look boy, you may be pretty, but it doesn’t mean you can prey on young girls the way you do. Jo’s only fifteen so back the hell off,” she says, making Dean almost choke on his drink.

Before he can respond, she grabs his burger and fries from the serving hatch and drops them in front of him. “Are we on the same page?” she adds, now with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah, of course, ma’am. Don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere near your daughter.”

“Mom!” Jo squeals from behind Dean. He turns around to find the blonde standing there with her face crimson red. “Stop trying to control me!” she screeches before running into the kitchen.

“You’ll thank me later,” the woman tells Dean before following her daughter.

Not a second later, a burly man with a net over his hair and beard comes out. He walks to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee. “I’m not stayin’ in there when they’re like that,” he explains to no one in particular. He catches Dean looking at him and smiles. “There’s knives and stuff… real dangerous,” he adds, making Dean laugh.

Dean dips a fry in his float then plops it in his mouth. “Are they always like that?” he asks as he chews, making the cook laugh. 

“Every other day, I’d say. You gotta be new around here otherwise you’d know. Out-of-towner?”

“Yeah…” He glances at the booth where his brother is still seated. “I might stay around for a while, who knows.”

The man must have seen him look at the group because he leans in to speak so nobody else would hear. “If you’re staying in these parts, I’d urge you to stay away from those guys,” he says before pushing himself back.

“Why?” Dean asks, but the man doesn’t answer and instead comes back in to offer his right hand. 

“Benny Lafitte.”

“Dean…” He hesitates a bit, unsure if Sam knows about his original surname. “Singer… Dean Singer.”

The amused glint in Benny’s eyes confirms that he knows Dean just lied. “All right, Dean Singer. Just remember what I told you,” he says again with a small tilt of his head towards Sam’s booth.

Jo comes out of the kitchen at the same moment. Benny nods at Dean and goes back to work, squeezing the girl’s shoulder as he does. She exhales loudly then comes back to stand in front of Dean.

“I’m sorry about my mom,” she says, still a bit flushed. “Don’t you go thinking that I was flirting with you or something. I’d never seen you, so you know… curious and such!”

“I totally got that,” Dean says before taking a first bite of his burger. “Man, that’s a good burger,” he exclaims with his bite not yet swallowed.

“Benny’s a genius in the kitchen. You’ll have to come back to get some of his pies, especially the spiced apple one – it’s out of this world.”

“You had me at pie,” Dean says before taking another huge bite.

He quickly decides he could get used to eating this stuff for the rest of his life. Which is probably why he’s back the next day at lunch time, ready to scarf down an entire stack of pancakes.

“You again,” the owner says in terms of greeting as she pours him a cup of coffee. “Jo’s not here,” she adds, giving him a pointed look.

“I wasn’t looking for her,” Dean says, which is only half the truth. The girl had been nice to talk to, less scary than her mom. “You’re still serving breakfast?”

“All day, every day. What can I get you?”

“In the mood for pancakes.” Dean takes a quick look at the menu. “With a side of bacon, please.”

“Coming right up. Benny! Pancakes and side of bacon,” she yells through the kitchen window. There’s a faint acknowledgment and the woman comes back to stand in front of Dean.

“My name is Ellen Harvelle. I own this joint,” she says, not bothering to ask for his name. “I’ve never seen you around here and believe me, I got a thing for faces. You passing through or did you just move here?”

A little weirded out by the sudden interest, Dean hesitates before responding.

“Well, I’m kind of passing through, but I’m also thinking I’d like to stay awhile.”

“A long time?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“‘Cause I’m about to put this in the window,” she says, pulling a ‘Help Wanted’ sign from under the cash register. “My dishwasher guy left without so much of a warning. You ever worked in a kitchen?”

“No, ma’am, not exactly.”

Ellen tilts her head, obviously waiting for an explanation. 

“I lived in a Home and I kinda helped Ruth with meals from time to time. She showed me stuff.”

“Lived in a Home, huh? You a troublemaker?”

Dean smiles. “I was before I got there. They helped me get my act together.”

Ellen nods, still with the sign in her hand. “So… you takin’ the job or not?”

  

Working at Harvelle’s, where Sam and his friends would hang out at least three times a week, is the best thing that could have happened to Dean. The job isn’t an easy one, doing every little crap thing nobody else wants to do, but Dean doesn’t mind. Not when it lets him catch a glimpse into the life of his little brother.

When she notices Dean looking one day, Jo says something similar to Benny about the group. This time, Dean finds the words to ask about it.

“Benny said something like that too. If these guys are so bad, why do you let them come here?”

“They haven’t done anything bad, not in here anyway. They’re just not people you wanna hang out with.”

“Why not?”

Jo sends a discreet glance toward the booth before scooting closer to Dean. “Let’s just say that if you were into drugs, they’d be the ones to see.”

“They’re just kids,” Dean says, very much aware  his brother is the only one young enough to be called that.

“Sam Novak’s my age. That’s the skinny one with the hair,” Jo specifies. “His girlfriend Ruby and the blond dude, they’re seniors. The other guy with the bad skin, he’s not in high school. Not ours anyway. Pretty sure he’s like twenty-five or something.”

Dean nods as Jo speaks, unable to detach his eyes from the booth. Until the older guy turns to him and smiles. Dean can tell the guy’s not being friendly even though he nods, prompting Dean to return the gesture.

Later that day, when Dean is taking out the trash in the back alley, Sam’s oldest friend walks up to him. The others are nowhere to be seen which should be reassuring, but Dean still braces himself.

“Hey there, Dean,” the man says, a crooked smile on his face.

“Do I know you?”

“We haven’t been introduced, if that’s what you’re asking. You work at my favorite burger joint so I thought I’d ask around. My name’s Luke, by the way.”

Dean nods then hurls the garbage bag into the bin. “Nice to meet you, Luke. If you’ll excuse me, I gotta go back—”

Luke is quick to move, going to stand between Dean and the door. There’s a ferocious edge to his tone when he speaks again. “See, I had to ask ‘cause I’ve seen you looking at me and my friends. Not sure I like that, makes me a bit concerned.”

“Hadn’t noticed I was doing that. It won’t happen again.”

Except Dean’s easy compliance doesn’t seem to satisfy Luke, who doesn’t move away. “It’s when I saw you talking to Jo that I kinda got it.” Luke takes a step further, now standing nose to nose with Dean. He grabs something from his pocket and pushes it down Dean’s own. “This one’s a freebie. If you need more, just let any of my kids know,” he says before walking away.

When the man disappears from view, Dean slides a hand in his pocket to find a couple of colorful pills and three joints in a small plastic bag. “What the hell,” he mutters, tempted to just throw the bag in the trash. Except that he doesn’t, intent on giving the poisonous gift back to Luke.

Inside the diner, Luke and the blond guy have disappeared, leaving Sam and his girlfriend to share a plate of fries and a strawberry milkshake. If only to make sure Sam’s not really part of Luke’s dealers, he walks to the table to sit on the boy’s side.

“Excuse you!” Ruby says, exaggeratedly outraged.

“I gotta talk to your boyfriend, if you wouldn’t mind leaving us alone,” Dean replies, undeterred by the girl’s dark stare on him.

Sam grabs his girlfriend’s hand and turns to address Dean. “Whatever you wanna tell me, you just go ahead. She’s not going anywhere.” And before Dean can say another word, his brother leans in to speak in a hush. “I take it that Luke gave you the starter kit? Gotta say, I didn’t think you’d want more already.”

It takes a couple of seconds for Dean to absorb the shock of his brother actually offering to sell him more drugs. “Huh—Yeah—About that… I don’t want that crap,” he says as he slides the baggie on the bench for Sam to take, but he doesn’t.

“It’s a gift, man. No strings attached. You can keep it, give it, or even flush it for all I care.”

Ruby now has a knowing smile on her face. “It’s a welcome to the neighborhood care package, is all. Some people bake muffins, we give out party favors.”

Dean can only nod as he puts back the drugs in his pocket and slides out of the booth. The lovebirds go back to sharing their snack as if Dean had never interrupted them.

“What was that all about?” Jo asks as he walks back toward the kitchen.

“Nothing. Thought he had dropped something in the men’s room,” Dean answers, not waiting to see if she believes him or not.

In the kitchen, Benny is busy making a fresh batch of his signature gravy. Without a word, Dean grabs the vinegar and scraper to start cleaning the hot plates.

“It’s a bit early for that, ain’t it?” the cook says, dropping the onions and garlic in the roux.

“I won’t clean ‘em all, just the last two. You’ll still have the first plate to work with.”

Benny nods and keeps stirring, scrunching up his nose at the stench of hot vinegar.

“So tell me, Benny,” Dean says as he scrapes the plate, “this guy Luke, he came to see me in the alley, gave me a baggie with some joints and uppers.”

“Yeah… he did the same to me last year. You gonna take ‘em?”

“No. Probably gonna trash it, but that young kid he hangs out with seems on board with it all.”

“Told ya, brother. You don’t wanna get mixed-up with these guys, they’re bad news.”

Dean huffs, dropping some more vinegar on the hot plate. “The skinny one, Sam… he’s just a kid. Why would he hang out with that creep?”

“You’ve seen his girlfriend, right? You know how it is. Boys will do a lot of stupid stuff to get tail that nice.”

“I can’t believe he’d be this dumb.”

The tone of Dean’s voice is enough to make Benny stop stirring and turn to him. “What’s it to you? It’s not like you know the kid. I really think you should just mind your own business. That Luke guy, he’s not someone you wanna mess with.”

“I don’t care about him. I only care about Sam.”

“And why is that? You got the hots for him or something?” 

Dean can’t help but chuckle at the idea. “Nah—I—he reminds me of someone.”

Benny nods and goes back to his pot to dump the rest of the ingredients in and stir. “Say, Dean… can I ask you something?”

“‘Course.”

“When I met you, you said your name was Singer. Saw your punchcard, chief. Says Dean W. on it. Care to explain what—”

Benny doesn’t have time to finish that they hear a commotion coming from the front of the diner.

“We aren’t doing anything wrong!” they hear someone scream. Dean could swear the voice is Sam’s.

Both Dean and Benny run out the kitchen, ready to intervene. They see Ellen standing between Sam and the guy that Dean had pegged as his father.

“Sam, you have a curfew to respect. You’ll only get in trouble again.”

“I’ll only get in trouble if you blab on me. It’s not even dark out yet.”

Mr. Novak’s demeanor is tense, but he doesn’t try going around Ellen. “That’s not how it works and you know it. Your curfew is eight pm and that’s all there is to it.”

The teenager throws his arms to the ceiling with an exasperated groan. “I’m fifteen years old, dad. Stop treating me like a child!”

It’s the father’s turn to growl as he squares his body and takes a step forward. “Stop acting like one, then.” He fishes out some bills from his wallet and gives them to Ellen. “I’m sorry for the disturbance, Ellen. I’ll be taking my son home now,” he says, then turns to Sam again. “Get in the car, Sam. Now!”

Dean isn’t surprised to see the teenager obey. Once really pissed off, his father is downright scary. Still, as he watches them go, Dean is a little worried.

“Ellen,” he says in a low voice, “d’you think he might try and beat up his kid?”

“Who? Castiel? Oh, hell no,” she says, ending her statement in a chuckle. “That kid’s actually lucky to have him as a father, even though he doesn’t seem to realize it. If he were mine, I’m pretty sure I’d have slapped him silly already or called the cops on him.”

She turns to Ruby who’s still standing next to the booth, her face crimson red. “I think you’d better go too. We’ll be closing soon anyway. Try and stay out of trouble?”

The girl doesn’t answer and scowls at the older woman before running out.

“Told ya they were trouble,” Jo tells Dean, a smirk on her face. “It’s sad though. Sam and me, we were best friends before. From kindergarten to junior high actually. Then we got to high school and this bitch dug her claws into him. He was at the top of every class and now he’s just this gigantic loser junkie.”

His brother may be hanging out with dealers, still Dean can’t believe he’d be using. “He doesn’t look like he’s on drugs.”

“Well he is. Last party I went to, he was there and really high. Not sure what he took, but he was totally gone, man.”

And not until Dean sees his brother snorting something in the diner’s restroom a week later does he really start believing it.

  

“You shouldn’t intervene, Dean.”

Dean huffs even though he knows Sonny is right. “Sonny, the kid is fifteen and snorting crap in restrooms. I can’t just watch him do it.”

“I understand, but even though you wanna do good, I really don’t think you’d be well received. Imagine a stranger trying to get all up in your business.”

“Sam is my business.”

“Not legally, no. And even if he was, he doesn’t know that, nor does his father.”

Whatever Sonny might say about it, Dean is determined to have a chat with his brother’s father. The man probably doesn’t know all that Sam has been getting into. And even if he does, he might need help dealing with it all.

“I’ll just say my piece and leave. Pretty sure his dad doesn’t know shit. Ellen knows him and says he seems pretty clueless about his own kid.”

“And what if he knows? He may be trying to deal with his son in his own way.”

“I still gotta try, Sonny!”

Dean hears Sonny’s frustrated exhale. “Son, all I ask is that you don’t put yourself in trouble for the kid, all right? You’re nineteen and your record’s clean again. Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. But… I also wanted to ask; would it be okay if I gave him your number? You know, in case he needs pointers?”

“I’m not a professional, Dean. You know this.”

“You might as well be. You’ve helped me and so many others over the years. Not asking you to save Sam, just—you know a whole lot about this stuff, is all.”

Sonny huffs again. “Would it make you happy?”

“You have no idea. I’ll be forever in your debt.”

“Cool off your engines, boy! It’s not like I’m givin’ you a kidney or nothin’. Tell the guy to call me if he wants, I’ll see if I can help.”

It’s Dean’s turn to let out a loud exhale, that one in relief. “Thanks, Sonny. Seriously… you might just be saving my brother’s life.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now leave me alone, my show’s about to start.”


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Dean is parked near the Novak house. He takes a minute to compose himself, worried at the thought of having to tell Mr. Novak about Sam’s extra-curricular activities. He may have sounded confident when he spoke to Sonny the night before, but he doesn’t feel as much now that he gets out of his car. Before he even makes it to the door, it opens on Mr. Novak who’s looking at him with his eyes squinted in obvious distrust.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his hands on his hips. Dean can’t help but be a little taken aback by the man’s strong presence.

“I—I’m sorry, sir—you don’t know me—”

“I’ve seen you before. You work at Harvelle’s, right? You were there last time I went.”

“Yeah, I was. D’you think we can talk?”

Mr. Novak walks down a couple of steps to stand in front of Dean. “About what? Are you a friend of my son’s? Or maybe you’re here to tell me to keep him away from your diner?”

“What? No… not a friend and, hmm… I’m just concerned.”

The older man now has his arms crossed over his chest as he observes Dean, his eyes squinted still. “I don’t see what you should be concerned about. If you’re not Sam’s friend and are not here to—”

Castiel’s words die in his throat when he sees the plastic bag Dean is now dangling before his face. Without a word, he pulls Dean inside the home and shuts the door.

“What’s this?”

“Pot and amphetamines, probably.”

“I don’t do drugs,” the now red faced man says, his voice a low hiss.

“Not saying you do, and I don’t either. It’s Sam’s buddy Luke who gave me these last week. Told me to ask Sam and his friends if I wanted more.”

The older man shakes his head and pinches his lips. “He’s lying.”

“I wish he was. Tried to give it back to Sam and he and his girl insisted I keep it. Told me to ask them when I want more.”

As Mr. Novak goes to sit in the living room, Dean stays near the door, not sure he’s welcome.

“What’s the point of you telling me this?” From where he stands, Dean could swear the man’s right about to cry. “Does it get you off to put him in trouble?”

“Of course not. I just wanna help.”

“Why? You said it yourself, you’re not even friends with him.”

Dean shrugs and takes the budding conversation as a permission to follow the man into the living room. He sits on an armchair with his elbows on his knees. “Look, I’ve been in trouble myself before. Not with drugs, but other stuff. Was lucky enough to be sent to a boy’s home and helped out of my bad habits.”

There’s surprise in the older man’s blue eyes. “Your parents sent you to a home?”

“Got no parents. Spent my life in foster care,” Dean says after hesitating a little. Would that be enough to give himself away?

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Mr Novak tries to smile, without much success. “You didn’t tell me your name,” he then says.

“Dean Singer.” Dean hates that he feels the need to lie about his name, but there’s a big chance Mr. Novak would recognize the surname as Sam’s original one.

“I’m Castiel Novak,” the man says with his right hand forward. Dean grabs and shakes it, trying not to think how his own hand must feel rough against the other man’s delicate one. Not a worker’s hand the man has.

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Novak.”

“Call me Castiel, please.” The man takes back his hand and gets up. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Dean says, which makes his host sit back down.

“Very well. So, was that all you had to say about my son? That he’s a drug dealer?”

Castiel quirks a single eyebrow when he notices the flush on Dean’s cheeks. “What else?”

“I kinda caught him in the diner’s restroom the other day. It looked like coke to me. I think you can snort many different things so I can’t be sure that’s what it was.”

Again, Castiel nods, looking more and more deflated.

“I just thought you should know.” Dean grabs a folded piece of paper from his pocket and holds it out for Castiel. “This is Sonny’s number, he’s the guy with the boy’s home. He turned my life around. Pretty sure he could help you on how to deal with your son.”

Castiel unfolds the note. “He’s not from around here, is he? Where’s that area code from?”

“Upstate New York, Brockport.”

“So what? You drive around the country and try to save any kid that gets himself in trouble?”

Dean has to admit that he’d like to tell Castiel the truth about who he really is. Except the man doesn’t seem eager to share about Sam’s origins, even after hearing about Dean’s own childhood. “Nah… the kid looks like he could do better, that’s all. And Jo said she was friends with him once so—”

“Jo Harvelle, yes. They’d hang out so much I even thought they’d end up getting married. Now was I ever wrong.” The older man seems to lose himself in thoughts for a second. “It’s not like I have the best track record myself, relationship-wise.” He looks up at Dean and blushes. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear about some old guy’s sob stories.” 

He gets up and goes to stand near the door. “Thank you, Dean. I really appreciate you giving me a heads-up. I knew my son wasn’t doing so well, but I never thought—anyway…” He takes a business card out of his wallet and gives it to Dean who had joined him. “Just call me if you think there’s anything more I need to know.”

“I will,” Dean promises as he steps out of the door Castiel is holding open. “I’ll send you my number too. In case you need anything from me, all right?”

Castiel smiles again and this time, Dean can’t ignore the little spark of happiness in his heart. And as if he’s seeing him for the first time, he notices the man’s actually good looking. Like, stupidly handsome.

He can’t get out of there fast enough, almost running toward the Impala, trying to escape the unwelcome thoughts. As he sits behind his baby’s wheel, he tries to talk himself out of the surge of desire that’s threatening to overcome him.

Not that getting a boner over a good looking man is some kind of surprise for Dean – it’s happened before, more than once. But over his brother’s adoptive father? That’s some disturbing shit, even for someone as messed up as Dean.

He’s right about to leave when he spots the silver Mercedes coming up the street and turning into the Novaks’ driveway. Sam gets out a second later and turns to look right at the Impala. When he starts walking toward the car, Dean doesn’t wait and drives away, his eyes on the mirror to see Sam watching him until he disappears.

  

The very next day, Dean gets cornered by Sam as he goes to dump the trash in the alley – he’s starting to think he should stop doing that. The kid looks pretty pissed when he speaks.

“What did you tell him?”

“What did I tell who?” Dean says back, hoping Castiel hasn’t told his kid everything.

“My dad! I saw you near my house and now my old man’s acting all weird and suspicious. Caught him in my room looking through my stuff.”

Dean shrugs, trying his best to appear unbothered as he walks around Sam. “Look, man… I don’t know what you’re babbling about. Why the hell would I tell your dad anything?”

The teenager comes back to stand in front of Dean. “You tell me! I didn’t believe Luke when he told me you seemed to be very interested in me. Told him he was being paranoid. Now I’m starting to think he’s right.”

“Look, kid,” Dean starts, flinging the garbage bags in the bin. “Maybe your dad just noticed you were shifty as hell. If I were you, I’d keep my nose clean for a while.”

“My nose isn’t any of your business. I better not see you on my street again, or learn that you’re telling shit to my dad.” Sam pokes at Dean’s chest as he speaks. “I wouldn’t wanna have to tell my much meaner friends about you.”

And as he says this, he swings his fist once, twice, at Dean’s face.

Dean has to steel himself not to start fighting back. He hates the fact that he has to take whatever shit his brother is telling him. Were he anyone else, Sam would probably be face down on the asphalt with his arms twisted around his back right now. Or he’d be holding his bloody nose as his face turned purple from Dean’s fists pummeling it.

“All right, stop!” Dean yells instead, letting himself fall to the ground with his hands over his own bloody nose. “Not lookin’ for trouble, all right?”

A crooked smile appears on Sam’s face, eerily similar to Luke’s own. “I’ll hold you to that,” the kid says, turning his back to Dean. Instead of walking away, he stays there with his fists clenched on his sides.

“Wanna beat me up some more?” Dean asks after spitting a wad of bloody saliva on the side.

Sam doesn’t answer and starts walking, leaving Dean alone in the alley. At the same moment, the door opens on Benny.

“Hey, Dean! Need you on the grill, got a shitload of customers.”

A second later, Dean hears Benny running to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“What happened? Who did this to you?” he says as he helps him up.

Dean lets Benny manhandle him inside and to the employee’s restroom, but stays quiet.

“Did you see them? We could call the cops you know, have the fuckers arrested.”

Shaking his head, Dean dabs a wet paper towel over his face, hissing when he feels the cut on his lower lip. He checks himself in the mirror and winces when he sees the shiner that’s already starting to show.

“I’ll be fine, Benny, thanks. Just go back to work, all right? I’ll be there in a sec.”

  

“Mr Novak? Huh… Castiel?”

“Speaking.”

“Hum… hi, this is Dean Singer. We met yesterday?”

There’s a shuffling noise on the line before the older man answers. “Yes, I remember. What’s going on?”

Even though he’s tempted to tell Castiel about his encounter with Sam, Dean doesn’t say a word about it. “Nothing. Told you I’d call to give you my number.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Dean. My phone grabbed it.”

There’s a silent pause, until Castiel speaks again.

“Will there be anything else?”

“I don’t think so. Unless you have something to tell me.”

“I don’t.” There’s another pause. “Actually, I want to thank you.”

“What for?”

“I called your friend. Sonny? He seems very knowledgable.”

“Yeah, he’s awesome.”

“He said the same about you. Made me think… maybe if you were to befriend my son—”

“Sorry, man. I can’t do that.”

Castiel lets out a frustrated huff. “Why not? He wasn’t always this way, you know. He was such a nice boy… still is, deep down, I’m sure. He’s just troubled.”

At that moment, Dean knows he has no choice but to share some of what happened.

“I’d love to be his friend, but he hates my guts. He’s convinced I blabbed to you about him. Confronted me at the diner today.”

“Did he—did he hurt you?”

Dean laughs, although it’s a little bitter, as he decides to lie. “Nah, he didn’t, but he said he’s got mean friends that could do that for him.”

When Castiel speaks again, Dean can hear his voice tremble. “Where the hell did I go wrong? He’s such a brilliant kid and then he goes and becomes a thug. I’m so sorry, Dean. I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t do that! It’ll only make him even more suspicious. Just… don’t worry about me, all right? Nothing happened, and nothing will. I can’t come around your place no more. If we have to meet for some reason,” Dean adds quickly, not wanting the man to take his words the wrong way.

“That’s probably best, yes.” Another pause. “I can’t help but think none of this would have happened if his mother had been here.”

“She’s not?” Dean asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“No. She left many years ago, never looked back. He must think she didn’t love him, but I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that.” Castiel clears his throat. “I’m sorry, this is of no interest to you. Again, thank you for calling and please, do not hesitate if you need something or if there’s anything else you think I should know.”

“Look, Castiel,” Dean says despite his better judgement, “I know I’m just a kid to you, but you sound like you could use someone to talk to. Not saying you got no friends, but… I’m a good listener.”

There’s a short laugh on the other end. “Dean, although I appreciate your offer, I’m not about to burden you with my problems. I have done it enough already.”

“You didn’t do none of that. Just know that I’m available if need be.”

They soon say their goodbyes, leaving Dean to lie in his bed with his mind full of questions. He hadn’t lied when he told Castiel he could lend an ear, but his offer hadn’t been totally innocent. If he couldn’t be in little brother’s life, he’d certainly try his best to learn as much as he could from his old man.

  

“Dean? This is Castiel. Did I wake you?”

Dean lets out a groan and opens his eyes to see it’s well passed two in the morning. “It’s all right. What’s up?”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Dean. I’ll call back tomorrow.”

“Dude, you woke me up, at least say what you gotta say.”

The shaky breath Dean hears on the line makes his heart skip a beat. “Is everything all right? Is Sam—”

“Sam—Sam’s okay. He’s asleep,” Castiel answers. Only then does Dean notices how slurred the man’s speech is.

“Are you drunk?” Dean asks, somewhat amused now.

“Maybe… but just a little bit. Kinda got carried away with the scotch after dinner.”

“Something on your mind, then?”

“So many things are on my mind, Dean. So many things. D’you know Sam has got no mother ‘nymore?”

“You kinda told me, yeah. Did she die or something?”

“Or something,” is all Castiel supplies. “If they had known what would happen, they never would have given us a kid.”

His heart racing, Dean takes the opportunity head on. “What do you mean, given you a kid?”

“Nothing. I don’t wanna talk about it. I should hang up now.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind, if you got stuff you wanna get off your chest—”

“I want you on my chest—oh god—” Dean hears before the line goes dead.

Sitting on his bed, Dean feels his cheeks flush. Did Castiel just say what Dean thinks he said? No, he must have heard wrong. The guy had been drunk and not making much sense.

Yet, Dean can’t help but imagine himself lying on top of the older man, rutting against him. Before long, Dean has his hand down his pajama pants to bring himself to completion, the memory of Castiel’s rough voice making him shiver.

When he wakes up the next morning, there are texts from Castiel on his phone.

> **_From Castiel:_ ** _Sorry for the late call. I believe it is called drunk dialing. It won’t happen again._
> 
> **_From Castiel:_ ** _Please forget anything I might have said. ALL OF IT_  

Dean chuckles, wondering if Castiel is referring to the adoption stuff or the last bit. Not that he’s going to ask. As he goes on with his morning routine, he tries to think of something to answer. He doesn’t want to scare the guy away, but he’d love to hear more about his brother’s life.

When he’s about to leave for work, he grabs his phone.

> **_To Castiel:_ ** _No worries, I said you could call if need be. I think you really need to talk though. Can’t do this at your place or the diner, but let’s meet? Just to chat._

Satisfied, Dean leaves, hoping Castiel will take his offer seriously. To his own surprise, Castiel answers back almost immediately. Dean waits until he’s parked at the diner before looking at his phone. 

> **_From Castiel:_ ** _You’re right, I need to talk. Could I meet you at your place tonight?_
> 
> **_To Castiel:_ ** _OK. The Golden Palm on Ladd. Room 23. Come at 8_

Dean doesn’t wait for Castiel’s answer before he gets to work, dropping his phone and wallet in his locker. He’d check again on his break. And as he puts on his apron and hairnet, he does his best to not get overly excited at the idea of having Castiel in his room tonight.

If he ever wants to be in his brother’s life, he can’t go and jump his dad’s bones.

Doesn’t matter how hot the guy is, he just can’t.

  

Castiel knocks on Dean’s door at almost eight thirty. Even though the man had confirmed he’d be there at eight, Dean didn’t think he would actually show.

“Sorry I’m late… was getting grilled by my own kid,” he says when Dean opens the door. “Now he thinks I’m on a date, of all things.”

Dean chuckles as he lets the older man in, trying to ignore how some small part of him wouldn’t hate that they actually were on a date.

“Want something to drink? Don’t got much,” he says as he opens the mini fridge he stocks with root beer and water. “I could also make coffee if you’d like.”

“No, I’m good, thank you.” Castiel sits on the armchair in the corner of the room, facing the bed. “So, you really live here? When you sent me the name, I couldn’t believe it.”

“You know this place?”

“It was a pretty famous hotel back in the seventies. Gotta say, it’s lost a lot of its… hmm… of its luster.”

Dean nods, grabbing a couple of water bottles. He throws one at Castiel then sits on the bed to face him. Only then does Castiel really see Dean’s face.

“What happened to you? Did Sam do this? You said he didn’t hurt you.”

Placing the bottle on the floor, Castiel gets up to examine Dean.

“Nah man, I told you, he didn’t. I just tripped and fell on my face.”

As he listens to Dean’s explanation, Castiel holds Dean’s chin up and tilts his head to assess the damages. “It really does look like you’ve been into a fight.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Dean insists, batting the man’s hand away from his face. “Talk to me.”

Castiel sighs as he sits back in the armchair. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“Say whatever you need off your chest, man,” Dean answers as he opens his own bottle and starts chugging the water. Damn, a beer would be good right about now.

“That’s just it. I don’t know what I could say. I’m just in way over my head. Talked to Sonny again earlier today. He thinks I may want to get Social Services involved.”

Dean almost chokes on his water. “Dude, no! They’ll just mess him up even more than he already is. Believe me, I know.”

“He knew you’d say that,” Castiel confesses with a small smile. “He also offered to take Sam in.”

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea. Better than the damn government, I can tell you that much.”

“But I can’t send my son that far away. After his mother—he might just imagine that I don’t love him either. I can’t have him think that, even though I’m sure he already does.”

There are so many questions Dean wants to ask. He settles on one he hopes won’t be too difficult to answer.

“So… what happened to his mom? Not that I know much about moms ‘cause I never really had one myself, but it may help you to talk about it.”

The laugh Castiel lets out is a sad one. “She left. Sammy was five at the time. She said she needed to find herself.”

“Why doesn’t she see Sam anymore? Parents divorce all the time, but they still see their kids.”

“She called me a couple of years ago. Or he called me, I should say.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel locks his eyes onto Dean’s shocked ones. “Yes, you heard me right. His mother is a trans man. When Hannah left, she had come to believe she was gay. Turns out she really was a heterosexual man born in the wrong body. At least that’s how she… he described himself.”

“Does Sam know? Is this why he doesn’t—”

“No, he doesn’t know. Clark – that’s my ex-wife’s new name – Clark doesn’t want Sam to know, not yet. And it’s killing me that I have to keep this a secret, you know?”

Of all things Castiel could have said, Dean had never imagined that. At the very least, he thought the guy would just come out with Sam being adopted.

“Just sayin’ but… don’t you think Sam deserves to know? You can’t let him believe his mom hates his guts.”

“I know, but it’s Clark’s life too. I don’t feel like it’s my place to out him.” Castiel huffs and shakes his head, suddenly looking very tired. “If only that was the only thing I’ve been keeping from him!”

Castiel hides his face in his hands and starts sobbing. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles through his tears. Without a word, Dean goes to grab the roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and gives it to the sniffling man.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry, you don’t need an old guy sobbing all over you. I’ll be going now,” he says as he gets up.

Dean doesn’t hesitate before getting back up and wrapping his arms around Castiel. To his own surprise, the man accepts the hug, barely holding a choked sob. They stay like that for a little while, Dean’s fingers caressing the back of Castiel’s neck in a soothing motion.

Castiel eventually takes a couple of steps back and wipes his eyes. “I haven’t let myself cry like that for so long,” he admits, now taking place on the bed rather than the chair. “I guess it was long overdue.”

Dean nods and sits next to Castiel, his thigh resting against the other man’s.

“It’s not like I could give you pointers about parenting anyway. I can lend you my shoulder to cry on, I don’t mind.”

“Aren’t you a little young to spend your evenings consoling sobbing old men?”

“You should stop saying that. That you’re old,” Dean explains for a puzzled Castiel. “Yeah, you may be older than me, but it’s not like you’re a senior citizen or anything.”

“If not for you, I need to remind myself that I’m old. Much too old.”

Dean can’t help but feel like Castiel is trying to convey something.

“Too old for what?” he dares to ask, making sure that their eyes are locked together again. “Too old for me?”

The sudden flush on Castiel’s cheeks tells Dean all he needs to know. His eyes automatically drop to Castiel’s plump lips before climbing back to his eyes. “I know we shouldn’t,” he says, making Castiel nod. “But I really want to,” Dean adds as he leans forward.

The older man gets up again, not waiting for Dean’s lips to land on his. “I’m sorry, Dean. I have to be the adult here. We can’t do this.”

And even though he really wants it, Dean kind of agrees. If they were to get involved, he’d never be able to look Sam in the eye. Ever.

“I get it… I’m sorry, man. I won’t do it again,” Dean promises, hoping Castiel would sit back down. Instead, the man goes to open the door.

“Thank you, Dean. I know you want to help, but it may not be a good idea that we meet like this. It’s too dangerous.”

“We could meet in public places.”

“And have someone see us and tell Sam? I can’t have that. I can’t have Sam think—he thinks I’m on a date, for heaven’s sake!”

There’s a fire starting deep inside Dean’s belly. “Have Sam think what? That you’re gay? Would that be so bad?”

“That’d be sort of liberating, actually. No, I just couldn’t have him think that something’s happening with you, specifically. You’re barely older than he is.”

“Oh… so, you’re gay, then?”

Visibly exasperated, Castiel closes the door he had opened and turns back around to face Dean. “Not that it’s important, but I’m more… bisexual? Or maybe I’m pansexual, doesn’t matter either way. This is why it hurts so bad that Hannah left, you know? I could have kept on loving her, on loving him…”

“Didn’t you say she thought she was gay? Unless there’s something you’re not telling me—”

“No, I know. Doesn’t make it less frustrating.”

Since Castiel doesn’t seem to want to leave anymore, Dean sits back on the bed. “You don’t look like you’re done talking. I won’t try anything, I swear. Just talk your heart out.”

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “How do you keep doing this? It’s highly frustrating,” he says as he goes to sit at the head of the bed, far from Dean. “Tell me… are you hungry?”

“Starving! Wanna go eat?”

“No, but we could order pizza. Would you mind?”

  

An hour later, they are munching on a pie while Dean shares a bit of his own life.

“So you’re never going to try and find your parents?”

“Nah… what’s the point?” Dean has to lie, having previously explained that he had been abandoned as a toddler instead of telling the real story. There’s still too great of a chance that Cas would realize who he really is. Which would ruin everything.

“You might learn that they had no choice. Maybe your mother was a teenager, or maybe your father bolted. Maybe your parents died and there was nobody left to care for you.”

As he often does, Castiel clears his throat before talking again. It hadn’t taken long for Dean to notice the man did that anytime he felt a bit embarrassed.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He drops his slice back in the box. “Another one.”

“Of course,” Dean says, now pretty much certain of what’s to come next.

“Of everything I’ve told you so far, this is the one thing Sam can never find out about. Not from anyone but me or his mother, that is. Well, his other father, rather.”

“Okay?”

“Sam is adopted,” Castiel says after a minute, a sad smile on his face. “Such a sad back story too. Poor kid’s whole family burned alive in their home. It’s a miracle Sammy even got out of there. Wasn’t even a year old, poor thing.”

“Then how did he get out?” Dean has to ask, knowing for a fact that his dad had entrusted the screaming baby in his arms. He could still remember standing outside the burning home as he held his brother, wondering why his mom and dad weren’t coming out to join them.

“Not sure… the father probably got him out then went back inside for the other kid and his wife.”

“The other kid?”

“Apparently they had another son and he too died in the fire. Told you it was a sad story.”

  

“They can do that?”

Dean can hear how appalled Charlie truly is. After Castiel left, Dean found he too needed to talk to someone and had dialed the redhead’s number.

“Looks like it. Sam is never gonna be looking for me, Charlie. If he’s ever told he’s adopted, he’ll think I died in the fire.”

“That’s not right. Maybe if the Novaks had known, they would have adopted you too.”

Dean almost laughs at the thought, especially since he’s been getting all sorts of unsavory ideas about Castiel Novak.

“Who knows… maybe,” he just says, not ready to reveal his dirty little secret.

There’s a long silence, neither of them knowing what to say. When Charlie speaks again, she’s a little hesitant.

“I think you should tell Mr. Novak the truth. He deserves to know.”

“And what? You think he’ll wanna adopt me?”

“No, you damn wookie! I mean, he may think it could help his son to know the truth. I’d think that Sam somehow knows something’s missing in his life and he’s trying to fill that hole.”

“Come on, Charlie. That’s psycho-babble shit and you know it. And if anyone has left a hole in his life, it’s his mom.”

“Man, that kid’s life is seriously messed up. And he doesn’t even know the half of it.”

Dean doesn’t need to answer, she knows he agrees. The envy he felt when he saw where Sam had landed had withered long ago. Now all he wants is to tell him the truth and bring him to Sonny’s so they can finally be a family.

“Winchester! Hey, you still there?” he hears Charlie say, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yeah… sorry… gotta go, too many things to think about. I’ll call you soon, all right?”

“Yeah, okay. Take care of yourself, you hear? And let me know what happens.”

  

The next morning, Dean is standing on the Novak’s porch, ready to ring the bell. He lets his hand hover over the push-button, scared of what might happen when he tells Castiel the truth. Hell, he might be pissed off just to find Dean at his door.

Still, he takes a deep breath and rings, somewhat praying that Castiel wouldn’t answer. No such luck.

“What in the name of—get in here!” Castiel presses him when he opens the door and pulls him inside. “I thought we said we couldn’t be seen together. You’re lucky Sam isn’t home.”

“I know. I parked my car a couple of streets over and kept an eye on the house. Waited until Sam left.”

“How do you know he won’t be back soon?”

Dean shrugs. “You tell me! Look, I can go if you want, it’s just that—”

Before he can utter a word about what he came to say, he finds himself pushed against the door with Castiel’s lips on his. He’s surprised enough to be unresponsive for a second, making the other man draw back.

“I—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

This time, he’s the one being cut off by lips on his. Dean pushes him back until they get to the living room, Castiel falling back on the sofa when it hit his legs. Dean feels himself fall too, Castiel’s hold on him not faltering as he brings Dean to straddle his lap.

“We shouldn’t—” Castiel starts, his objection ending in a low moan when Dean starts sucking on his neck.

“I know,” Dean answers in a mumble, his mouth never leaving Castiel’s skin.

Soon, there’s urgency in Castiel’s movements as he divests Dean of his plaid shirt and t-shirt. He caresses the soft freckled skin with trembling hands before plunging them down the back of Dean’s jeans.

“Oh shit! Yeah, touch me!” Dean rasps as Castiel massages his ass cheeks and dips a tentative finger in his crack. “Fuck, you’re hot!”

“Take off your pants, Dean… please!”

There’s no hesitation when Dean unfastens his belt and pants in a swift movement. The moan he lets out when he feels the air on his dick makes Castiel retaliate with his own gravelly grunt. In the little time it takes Dean to take off his pants, Castiel does the same, leaving him with only his shirt and tie on.

“Dude,” Dean says, his eyes fixated on Castiel’s crotch as he falls to his knees.

“Dean!” Castiel whines when he feels Dean’s lips on his erection.

It doesn’t take long for Castiel to be a blubbering mess, with both his hands buried in Dean’s hair, guiding him to take his dick deeper and deeper in his throat.

“Enough! Please! Dean!” he now screams. “I’m—I’m coming!”

Dean lets him go and sits back on his heels, watching him intently as he pumps his own dick. Castiel does the very same, his whole body flushed and so tensed it looks about to snap, until he does and comes all over Dean’s chest with his name on his lips. Dean can’t see Castiel anymore, his eyes screwed shut as he finishes himself off. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Dean… come for me, would you? Please,” he hears Castiel plead, his voice even huskier than usual. He hears the man slide down the sofa to kneel in front of him and his hands start softly caressing his thighs.

Dean’s eyes fly open. In front of him is Castiel, his own eyes so dark with desire there’s barely any blue to be seen. Dean’s mouth goes slack and he tilts his head back as he comes on Castiel’s shirt and tie. When Dean opens his eyes again, it’s to see the older man wiping some of the come to taste it.

“Holy shit!” he moans as another stripe of white lands right on Castiel’s junk.

With a trembling hand, Dean does the same, dipping a finger in Castiel’s spunk to taste it, making the man clear his throat and lick his lips. 

They don’t bask in the afterglow for very long, mainly because Castiel pretty much falls into a panic. He starts looking around for their clothes, throwing Dean’s own at him.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have let it go this far.” He sends Dean an apologetic look, which kind of feels weird with his face all reddened and his hair matted on his forehead. “Please… I can’t have my son find you here. And certainly not like this.”

And even though Dean agrees, he still hasn’t said what he came to say. “Castiel—I—I need—”

“Please, Dean, leave. This never happened, you hear?”

As soon as Dean is decent enough, Castiel gently pushes him toward the door. He opens it, making sure that their eyes don’t meet. “Take care of yourself, Dean. Stay out of trouble,” he says, motioning for him to leave.

“Cas—”

“Goodbye, Dean,” Castiel insists before closing the door on him.

Stunned by the sudden dismissal, Dean doesn’t start moving immediately, as if unable to remember where he is or why. He’s tempted to just ring the doorbell again, force Castiel to listen to him, but he doesn’t. Not knowing when Sam is due back, Dean walks away, hoping not to see the kid until he can reach the next street.

Instead of going to his motel, Dean stops by Harvelle’s and of course, there’s Sam and his friends sitting in their usual booth.

“Hey, Winchester! What the hell are you doing here? It’s your day off.”

Panicked, Dean looks over to the booth, but Sam doesn’t seem to have heard or noticed Ellen’s use of his real name. Not that he should, according to Castiel.

“Got no food at my place,” Dean says as he sits at the counter. Only then does he notice Ellen’s judgemental look on him. “What?”

“You may wanna clean yourself up a bit. What did you get yourself into?”

Dean almost runs to the bathroom, his face flushed red, to take a look in the mirror. Yeah, he looks like he’s gotten into something, all right. He splashes water on his face then moistens paper towels to wash off Castiel’s dried come from his chest. Not that anyone would know it’s there, but it’s getting pretty uncomfortable anyway.

He examines his clothes, glad to find there’s no trace of fluids on them. Then he wets his hair, trying to put it back into shape. Castiel hands had done quite the damage.

“You could have gone to your place to take a shower, you know. So, tell me… do I know her?”

“Know who?” Dean answers innocently enough, perusing the menu he knows by heart.

“Don’t play stupid with me, boy. Who’s the girl that ravaged you? Do I know her?”

“Nah… I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, please.”

Ellen huffs and goes to call his order through the kitchen window. She drops a root beer in front of him and leaves to tend to customers that just came in. As he waits for his food, Dean takes his phone and opens the text application.

There’s a message from Timmy, telling him how he’s at the top of his class in both math and English. Also that he’s taking karate lessons in school now. With a smile on his face, Dean writes back, congratulating him and telling him how karate sounds like a lot of fun.

He’s about to shut his phone off when he gets another idea. Still in the texting app, he types a message to Castiel. 

> **_To Castiel:_ ** _Hey Cas. I hope you’re not too weirded out. I’m not. It was awesome is what I’m trying to say. I’d love to do that again. Even if you don’t want to, I still got stuff to tell you so call me whenever._

He doesn’t put the phone back in his pocket, knowing Castiel usually answers back quickly. Except he still hasn’t when Sam’s blond friend comes to sit next to him.

“Dean, right?” the guy says, a smarmy smile on his lips. “I’m Brady, friend of Luke’s. You know Luke, right?”

Dean can’t explain it, but that guy’s voice and mannerisms are like nails over a blackboard. Still, as an employee of the joint, he knows he can’t start being an ass to the kid. Well, not so much a kid as he’s probably not that younger than Dean; a year or two, max.

“I’ve met Luke, yeah, but I wouldn’t say I know him.”

“Well, he knows you. And he’d like to see you.”

Glancing toward the corner booth, Dean meets Luke’s eyes. The man nods, his crooked smile still on his lips.

“Yeah well, you can tell him I don’t swing that way.” And of course he does, but there’s no way he’d ever let that creep get his paws on him.

When Brady speaks again, it’s a low hiss and he’s leaning toward Dean. “Show some respect, you motherfucker. Luke’s no queer, got it? He just seems to think you’d make a great addition to the family.”

“Not interested.”

A flicker of light catches Dean’s attention: Brady is pointing a switchblade at him below counter level. 

“I don’t think you understand,” he says, the blade catching the light as he moves it. “Luke wants to talk to you. Now.”

At the same moment, Benny noisily drops Dean’s lunch on the serving hatch, his eyes on Brady.

“You okay there, chief?”

“Yeah, all’s good, Benny. Keep those warm for me, I’ll be back in a sec.”

His weapon now out of sight, Brady leads Dean to the corner booth, motioning for him to sit next to Ruby so he’d face Luke. Apart from the leader of the group, nobody seems to be happy he’s there.

“Hi, Dean! Long time no see,” Luke says. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing of interest,” Dean says as he notices Ellen eyeing them from a couple of tables over. “All work, no play…”

“That’s because you got a boring job.” Luke tilts his chin at Ruby as he speaks. Immediately, the girl slides something into Dean’s hand. He doesn’t need to look to know what it is, even though the package feels bigger than last time.

“Look, I don’t do drugs, man. Take back your shit.” He’d love to speak loud enough so everyone would hear how much of an asshole that guy is, but he doesn’t. Instead he tries to give back the bag to Ruby, but she’s making sure he can’t reach her hand. He drops it on the bench, wanting nothing to do with it.

Luke’s smile widens. “I know you don’t, which is why I think you’d make a great salesman.” He points to Brady. “See, this guy barely sells enough to cover for his own consumption. And these two… well, they also have the same problem, but what can I do, huh? They’re family.”

The three teens keep their heads low, never meeting Luke’s or even Dean’s eyes. And before Dean can say a single word, Luke continues with his sales pitch.

“I saw where you live, Dean-O. That place is a major dump! Unlike these kids, you could use some more cash to spend. And as a non-user, you’d be making a killing. As long as you work for it, of course.”

“Never,” Dean hisses, making all eyes at the table fall on him. “I’d rather live on the streets than sell shit to kids. And especially for you.”

Soon enough, Luke usual crooked smile is back on his face. “Now you be careful, son. You don’t know who you’re talking to. Just know that I’ll be here when you change your mind. Try and mess with any of my kids and I’m ending you. Got it?”

Dean must be looking all kinds of pissed because a strong hand lands on his shoulder, making sure he stays put. “Dean, your lunch’s ready. I know how you hate cold fries.”

Letting out a relieved breath, Dean turns to Ellen and manages to give her a smile that looks genuine enough. “Thanks, Ellen. Kinda forgot, chatting with my buddies here.” He turns to Luke who gives him a nod and a wink. “Later,” he says before following Ellen to the counter.

She quickly pushes his meal at him, but doesn’t say another word, knowing the group is looking at them. Dean checks on his phone to find Castiel never answered. He decides to give him some more time and scarfs down his meal just so he can leave quickly.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean’s back in his room, his stomach gurgling from the barely chewed burger and fries. Since Castiel still hasn’t answered his text, he starts wondering if the message ever got delivered.

> **_To Castiel:_ ** _Hey, me again. Just wanna make sure you got my last message. Can you confirm?_

Around dinner time, Dean can’t bring himself to leave to go find some more food. Instead, he munches on the last of a bag of Funyuns and a whole family size bag of Peanut M&Ms. Then he tries to call Castiel rather than texting him again.

For the first time, he gets sent to the man’s voicemail.

“Hey, Cas. It’s Dean. Not sure if you’re having problems with your phone, but I sent you some texts earlier and you didn’t come back to me. Anyway… just to say… if you could call me, I’d appreciate it. Got stuff to tell you but… you know… I think we should also talk about what happened today. So… yeah… okay, bye then!”


	6. Chapter 6

During the following week, Dean tries to text and call Castiel at least once a day. He’s made sure to tell him, more than once, that he’s over the sex stuff, but that he’s still pretty worried about Sam. If only for that, Castiel should at least consider calling him back.

By the third week, Dean has stopped trying, even foregoing his plan to go and confront Castiel at his home.

“I’d say you got used and dumped, kiddo.”

As always, Sonny doesn’t feel the need to put on kid gloves to say what he thinks. And Dean’s sexual exploits seem to be the least of his worries.

“Yeah, I kinda got that, thanks! He should call back to at least talk about Sam. I have stuff to tell him.”

“Look, as far as he knows, you got no business with Sam. And he’s not wrong. I know you wanna help the kid, but it isn’t up to you.”

“Well, neither of them knows that. Told you what Cas said, right? He thinks I’m dead… if he knew Sam still had a brother, I’m sure he’d change his mind about keeping the adoption from him.”

“You don’t know that, Dean.” There’s some sort of scuffle over the line. “Kid, there’s nothing more you can do. Come back home before whatever you’re doing bites you in the ass,” he hears Ruth say before come more ruffling noises.

Sonny is back on the line. “She’s not wrong, you know.”

“No, I know. But I can’t. Even if I can never tell them who I am, he’s still going down a very dangerous path. If nothing gets done, he’ll be dead before he gets his high school diploma.”

“Castiel won’t let it happen, I’m sure. Just let him handle this his own way, all right?”

Dean knows exactly what Sonny wants to hear. “All right. I will.”

“I know you’re lying to me, Dean. It’s not like I can tell you what to do. Just… be careful, okay?”

The second he hangs up, Dean’s phone starts ringing. It’s from a private number. His heart skips a beat, thinking that Castiel just might finally be willing to talk.

“Hey, there, Dean-O.”

Any hope Dean had just evaporates. “How did you get this number, Luke?”

“Are you seriously still questioning my powers in this town? You’re dumber than I thought, kid.”

“Go to hell!”

“I probably will… someday. But until that happens, I’m bound to have a little fun. Throwing a party for my all closest friends, wanna come?”

“Listen, you freak! I’m not your friend nor your dealer and I have no interest in being either. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“Aw… you’re breaking my heart, kid. I thought we had reached an agreement the other day.”

“Yeah. I agreed to leave you guys alone. I’d appreciate it if you did the same.”

“Whatever. You be careful out there, Dean-O. Lots of dangerous people lurking around.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not… it’s just friendly advice. See you ‘round.”

Dean hangs up, tempted to throw the phone against the wall to see it shatter into a million pieces. But before he can do that, the device beeps in his hand. With a trembling finger, he swipes to read the text he’s just received.

> **_From Timmy:_ ** _good night dean_

And just like that, most of Dean’s anger melts away. God, he misses that kid. For a minute, he considers going back to Brockport. Leave Pontiac and all its fucked up people, go to college and then take over the Home when Sonny’s ready to retire.

Except he can’t imagine leaving Sam behind. Doesn’t matter that the kid doesn’t know who he is, Dean has this innate need to keep him close, keep him safe. 

> **_To Timmy:_ ** _Good night buddy. Sleep tight_

Dean drops his phone on the bed, knowing Timmy won’t write back. It’s kinda late, even if it’s summer, and he knows Ruth doesn’t mess around with bedtime.

It takes Dean far too long to fall asleep, the first lights of day peaking through the old, dirty curtains before he can even get some shut eye. All he’d been able to do was obsess about what had happened in the last few days.

First off, he hasn’t seen Sam or his friends at the diner for the last week, which is highly irregular. And with Luke’s call earlier, there’s no way this means the band had dismantled. Benny even told Dean that Sam’s father had called Ellen the day before looking for his son.

“Maybe they’re in trouble,” Dean had said, truly concerned. Benny obviously couldn’t have cared less.

“Their own damn fault if they’re in trouble, chief. And they better keep their troubles far away from here, Ellen doesn’t need their shit.”

Of course, Dean knows Benny’s right. Still, he can’t help but fear for the safety of his brother. The others could very much burn alive for all he cares.

All that thinking makes getting up the next morning even harder than usual. Dean can usually thrive on just three or four hours of sleep, but he hasn’t even gotten that. And for a couple of nights now. When he comes in to work dragging his feet and yawning, it makes Benny chuckle.

“Woah there, brother! Big night last night?” The cook’s eyes are shining with mirth.

“Not so much, no… just having trouble sleeping,” Dean counters between yawns.

“Believe me, a couple of fingers of Southern Comfort before bed helps a whole lot. Keeps the nightmares at bay… that’s if you got ‘em, of course.”

Not willing to get into how he’d better stay far from alcohol, Dean gives his friend a noncommittal nod then yawns again, prompting Benny to retaliate.

“Brother, you keep doin’ that, we’ll all be falling asleep at the wheel. Just go find yourself something to do somewhere else, all right?” the cook grouses after letting out not one but two noisy yawns.

Even though tired, Dean finds his rhythm quickly enough, speeding through the lunch rush without even noticing it. It’s only when he sits down to eat his own lunch, yet another burger, that he’s reminded of how tired he really is.

“Son, you look awful,” he hears Ellen say when she comes to sit next to him with a grilled cheese sandwich and chef salad. “Look, Tuesday’s are usually pretty slow. Why don’t you go home and rest?”

“I’m fine, Ellen… don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t make me drag you out to your car,” she threatens, her attention on her own plate. “You very well know that I could. And I’d rather have you back Thursday, well rested and productive. I won’t give you some time off then, or during the weekend.”

Dean knows there’s no use in trying to convince his boss to let him stay. And, to be totally honest, he could use the break.

“All right, I’ll finish my meal and clock out. Thanks, Ellen.”

The older woman doesn’t answer, but still leans her shoulder against Dean’s, a soft smile on her lips. She may act all tough most of the time, but she really has a immense heart and Dean can’t help but think of her as a motherly figure.

Half an hour later, Dean is walking to his car when he hears some noise coming from further down in the alley. At first he’s tempted to just mind his own business and drive back to the motel. Which he’s right about to do when he hears someone scream in pain. He automatically starts running toward the noise.

He can’t shake off the feeling that it was Sam he heard. As he gets closer, he can now hear sobbing and wailing. Except it’s not Sam who’s making those noises; it’s some other kid, much smaller than Sam, but about the same age. From afar, Dean can see the kid’s shirt is drenched in blood with Brady standing before him with a bloody knife. Next to them is Sam.

“Hey!” Dean screams, making Brady and Sam turn to him. “Leave him alone!”

Brady’s expression turns ferocious as Dean takes his phone from his pocket and dials 911. When he takes a couple of steps toward Dean, Sam grabs his friend’s arm.

“Brady! We can’t stay here! Come on,” Sam says, pulling on Brady so he’ll follow him.

“You place that call and you’re dead! You hear me? You’re fucking dead!”

“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” Dean hears as he starts walking toward the stabbed teenager.

“A kid just got stabbed, in the alley behind Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, on Main. He needs help.”

Dean stays on the phone with the dispatcher, waiting for the EMTs to get there. And as he waits, he debates internally about what to tell. He’s very much tempted to just say that he found the kid alone, but he knows that’d be a shitty thing to do.

It doesn’t take long for the alley to be buzzing with activity. As the boy gets loaded into the ambulance, Dean is getting some attention from a blonde policewoman.

“Tell me, did you see what happened?” Detective Hanscum asks him.

“Nah. All I saw was those two other kids, and one had a bloody knife. They ran off when I yelled.”

“And d’you know those kids?”

“Well… not personally, no. I’ve seen them around the diner and stuff.”

“Any chance you’d know their names?”

If it came to it, anyone else at the diner would be able to say that yeah, Dean knows their names. It might even come out that he’s talked and even sat with them on a couple of occasions.

“The one who had the knife, his name’s Brady. Don’t know his last name.”

“And the other one?”

Seeing Dean’s hesitation, the detective makes sure to look him in the eye and gives him a warm smile. “Look, Dean, I know being a snitch sucks a duck. But a kid was stabbed and we don’t even know if he’s gonna make it. We’re talking attempted murder, maybe murder one, you get me? And keeping information from us… well… that could be considered accessory after the fact. Know what that means?”

Dean tries to swallow the lump in his throat, without success, and shakes his head.

“It means you could be charged with what just happened. As an accomplice… you wouldn’t want that now, would you? Or at the very least, you could get charged with obstruction of justice. You look like a nice kid, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Sam—Sam Novak,” Dean finally tells the blond detective in a trembling voice. “But it’s Brady who had the knife.”

“Did you see Brady stab Andrew?”

“No. I heard a scream and then I ran here and saw the kid bleeding and Brady holding a knife.”

“Thanks a whole lot, Dean. I really appreciate you being honest with me.” Detective Hanscum holds out a business card for Dean. “We have all your information and we’ll be contacting you. In the meantime, if you remember anything else, just call me.”

Eager to leave already, Dean turns away, ready to run back to his car. Instead, he finds Jo standing behind the yellow tape with her eyes on him.

“What happened, Dean? Are you okay?” she asks the second he goes under the tape.

“Yeah, I’m good. Some kid got stabbed in the alley, I called the cops.”

“Did you see what happened?”

Detective Hanscum hadn’t told him to keep what happened to himself, still, Dean hesitates to share what he’d seen. If only to try and protect his little brother.

“Nah, just found the kid,” Dean says with a shrug as he walks to his car, Jo following closely behind him.

“Do you know who the kid was?”

“The detective said his name’s Andrew.”

“Gallagher? Andy Gallagher?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean exhales. “I don’t know, Jo. I’ve never seen the kid before. Look, I’m really tired, your mom gave me—”

“Yeah, sorry, I know! I’ll go,” Jo says in huff as she walks away. “You go on and sleep, see if I care.”

“Don’t be like that, Jo!” Dean calls after her, but she doesn’t turn around and she waves a dismissive hand at him.

Any other day Dean would probably have been less impatient, or he would have at least gone after Jo to apologize. The guilt of selling out his little brother is already too much to handle. He knows the kid doesn’t like him, but now he’ll downright hate him. Even learning they’re actually brothers wouldn’t be enough to help mend things between them, he’s sure of it.

On his way back to the motel, Dean is tempted to stop by the liquor store and take a page out of Benny’s book: A little bit of whiskey could only help. He parks the Impala at the store and starts fiddling with his wallet, looking for that fake I.D. he’d been carrying around. It isn’t the greatest quality, but it did help him get into bars to see shows he wouldn’t have seen otherwise. When George Thorogood’s in town, you make sure you can get inside the venue.

Being able to buy booze had just been one of the perks, even though by then he had kicked the habit. So, mostly, Dean just used the card to get into places unavailable to him. Except now it’s begging to be used for this other purpose. Buying a fifth of Jack, just this once, shouldn’t be too bad. Once the bottle is finished, that would be the end of it.

  

When Dean gets waken up by loud knocks on his door many hours later, it takes him a little too long to stir out of sleep. His mouth feels pasty, his head hurts and it’s like his eyelids have been sewn shut.

“Fuck,” he says when he finally can open his eyes and sees the empty bottle of Jack on the floor. “Wait a minute, for fuck’s sake!” he then yells at whoever’s banging on his door.

On the other side he finds Castiel, his face flushed and eyes red-rimmed, looking pissed as hell. He doesn’t wait for Dean’s invite and stomps in, slamming the door behind him.

“How dare you!” the man starts yelling, standing right in Dean’s face. “Why did you do this, Dean? Because I didn’t call you back? Are you trying to punish me by causing trouble for my son?”

Dean takes a couple of steps back, his hands up in a placating fashion. “First, I got the mother of all headaches, so watch the volume, okay? Second, I had to call the cops, dude. The kid was dying. And Sam was there, Cas, he really was.”

“Couldn’t you just have said you didn’t see anyone else? That you found the kid and called an ambulance? Sam’s only fifteen, Dean. If they charge him for this—”

“I’m sorry, Cas… maybe now he’ll see how dangerous his friends really are.”

Once more, Castiel takes a couple of steps forward to stand in Dean’s personal space. “I was handling it, Dean. I was getting ready to move far away from here, pull Sammy out of this toxic environment.”

“I tried to tell you, Cas. He’s been spiraling down, but you won’t even take my calls or answer my texts. I get it, we fucked and it’s a one time thing, but don’t punish Sam over that.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Castiel swivels around, his tan trench coat twirling over his tracksuit. “Every day I wanted to call you, and text you. But you’re just so young. I’m old enough to be your father, Dean.”

“But you’re not my dad,” Dean can’t help but say, thinking too how maybe Cas could have ended up being his father all those years ago.

“Indeed, I’m not. But I’m still a father and my job is to protect my son. I guess you did your duty in selling him out, I just can’t help hating you over it. You say you wanna help, but… all you’ve done since you got here is stir trouble.” Castiel turns around again to face Dean. “I don’t want you to call or text me ever again. And stay away from my son. Understood?”

As Castiel goes to leave, Dean mumbles something. He’s kind of hoping that Castiel will keep going. 

“What’s that?” he asks instead, making Dean sigh.

“I said I can’t do that. I can’t stay away from Sam.”

“What? Are you in love with him or something? He’s just a kid, Dean. And very much heterosexual… I think.”

“No, Cas! I can’t stay away from Sam because he’s my brother. My name is Dean Winchester, not Dean Singer. And I didn’t die in that fire.”

  

Kneeling in front of the toilet, Castiel holds his head, looking right about to puke.

“Are you really gonna be sick over this?” Dean asks, sitting on the bed.

“Feels like I should, but it won’t come,” he answers, keeping his eyes on the porcelain bowl. “How is this even possible? How—you’re lying to me, aren’t you? It’s some kind of sick joke?”

“I wish it was. I’ll even do a DNA test or whatever to prove it.”

“Does Sammy know?”

“No. Like you said yourself, it’s not my truth to tell. Even though I really wanted to at some point. That’s why I needed to talk to you so bad. You deserved to know.”

Castiel exhales and sits on the floor. “We had sex, Dean. I had sex with my son’s brother! And you knew about it. Do you see how fucked up this all is?” Castiel gags and gets on his knees again. “Had I known you were alive, I would have wanted to adopt you too.”

And there it is, Castiel’s dinner finding its way back up.

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have done that stuff if you had adopted me,” Dean says, but Castiel doesn’t hear him over his retching noises.

They don’t talk again, not for a while. At some point, Castiel closes the bathroom door to have some semblance of privacy while Dean turns on the clock radio. As he waits for Castiel to come out, he can’t help but feel antsy. No so much because of the present situation, but because of the lack of alcohol in his system. He could have sworn those days were far behind him.

If it wasn’t the middle of the night, Dean would probably have made a quick run to the liquor store. He’s busy dreaming about the bigger bottle he had almost bought when Castiel finally comes out of the bathroom. He doesn’t look at Dean and makes a beeline for the door.

“What I said still stands. You keep away from me and my son, Dean. I can’t force you to leave town or anything, but I swear I’ll get a restraining order if you try contacting either of us again.”

“Cas—”

“I’m not kidding, Dean. I’m very sorry you lost your family, but rest assured that I won’t have Sam lose the little he’s got left.”

The door closes on Castiel and Dean stays on the bed, stunned by the man’s warning. He knew telling Cas the truth could go awry, but never to this extent. He looks at the clock radio that’s blaring something too peppy for his taste and slams a fist onto it. He does it again and again, until a knob flies off and the music stops. Dean starts feeling better.

He grabs his phone from the side table and thumbs through his contacts. He finds Sonny’s number and hesitates before going to find Charlie’s number instead. She told him she was a night owl, so she just might still be up at almost two in the morning.

When she answers after the fourth ring, Dean is just about to hang up.

“This better be important, Winchester,” she says as a greeting.

“Sorry, Charlie… I thought you’d be up.”

“Oh, I’m up, I’m just very busy with that new medieval game. You don’t sound so good. What’s going on?”

Charlie waits until Dean has shared all that’s happened before talking again. “I think you should just go back to Brockport, dude. Looks like you’re never getting what’s left of your family back together.”

“Shouldn’t Sam be making that decision himself?”

“In an ideal world, yeah. But he’s troubled enough as it is, don’t you think? And a minor. I kinda get why his dad isn’t eager to tell him he’s adopted.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I can’t help but think that if Sam knows who I am—”

“It won’t do any good, believe me. And Mr. Novak said he’d get a restraining order against you if you even tried. Just leave this place, all right? If you don’t wanna go back to Brockport, come see me in Lawrence. Plus, Sam and the others know by now that you talked. Don’t wait to get stabbed too.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, Charlie. They’re not gonna come after me.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Of course. Thanks for the talk, Charlie.”

While on the phone, Dean had been able to ignore his headache. Now, wrapped in silence, he starts feeling queasy again. He groans as he stretches an arm up to turn the lamp off, letting himself be lolled back to sleep by the blood pulsing at his temples.

Getting up again some time later isn’t any easier. Still he forces himself to move, taking a shower and shaving so he’ll look a tiny bit human. He considers going to Harvelle’s when his belly growls, but since it’s his day off, he chooses to go to the Biggerson’s on the other side of town. If he’s lucky, he won’t see anyone he knows there.

Except that he’s barely ever lucky.


	7. Chapter 7

In the parking lot, a couple of spaces down from his door, sits the Impala with its tires slashed. His heart in his throat, Dean stalks around to see the extent of the damages. The taillights and headlights have been busted, the windshield is cracked, the passenger window has been smashed, and there’s a couple of long gashes in the front bench’s leather.

“How the fuck did I not hear anything?” he says out loud, very well knowing his alcohol-induced slumber is to blame.

He goes to the front office, determined to have someone’s head on a platter for breakfast. He didn’t see any, but he still wishes there were surveillance cameras somewhere on the lot. The old man behind the counter doesn’t look up from his computer screen when Dean comes in, instead spouting his usual greeting speech in a single breath.

“Welcome to the Golden Palm Motel, my name’s Frank and I’m your concierge. Will you be with us for the night or just a siesta?”

“Huh… Frank, Dean Winchester from room twenty-three. My car got busted last night, d’you have cameras on the parking lot?”

“Yup.”

“Great. You think we can take a look and see who fucked up my ride?”

“Nope.” Only then does the old man look up, his lips pursed in frustration. “If you wanna look at the feeds, you’re gonna need a search warrant, boy. And I’m pretty sure you don’t got that.”

“I just wanna know who busted my car.”

“Call the cops!”

The one thing Dean doesn’t want to do is talk to cops again. As he walks back to his mangled car, he wonders if Bobby would be willing to come down with his flatbed. Charlie had been right; there’s nothing left for him in Pontiac.

“Hey, Bobby! Dean Winchester,” he says as he peruses the meager choices in the motel’s vending machine. “Got my fill of Pontiac by now… if you don’t mind, I’d like to come back to your neck of the woods, my Baby needs some work done. Except I’d kinda need you to bring your flatbed over. I can pay whatever so don’t worry about that. Just call me when you get this.”

He hangs up, hesitating between an oversized caramel candy bar or a blueberry muffin thing. He goes for the candy bar then walks to the car to grab whatever’s left in the glove compartment. In the motel’s trash bin he finds a couple of cardboard boxes he uses to close up the passenger window.

When he’s done, the need for a drink pokes its ugly head again. The convenience store isn’t that far out and Dean knows it’d only take him ten minutes to walk there. They don’t have Jack, but they’ve got beer. And food. It’s not like he can live off of candy bars anyway. He could buy some bread and peanut butter, maybe beef jerky and some kind of pie.

Dean’s belly rumblings are convincing enough, but before he goes, he takes out his phone again.

“Detective Hanscum.”

“Hey, this is Dean Winchester. We talked yesterday?”

“Ya betcha, I remember you. Got some more information for me?”

“Well, not really. I don’t know if it’s related at all, but my car got wrecked sometime last night, in the parking of the motel where I’m at. Didn’t hear anything, I was sleeping.” He isn’t about to tell a cop his underage ass had been drunk out of his wits.

“And you think it’s related because…?”

“Well, Brady saw me, and Sam too. They must know by now that I blabbed.”

“Brady spent the night in jail and Mr. Novak came to bail his son out. I don’t think either of them would have been able to mess with your car.”

“They got friends,” Dean says, immediately regretting it.

“You don’t say… now you didn’t tell me that yesterday, Dean. What else do you know?”

“I—I don’t know. I’m just assuming—”

“All right, I’ll send some people over to check it out. Then they’ll bring you back here so we can have a lil’ chat. Whattaya say?”

“Are you arresting me?”

“Of course not. I just think you’d rather have them give you a ride than pay a taxi to get here. Just to chat, I promise. We’ll figure this all out.”

It takes a little over an hour for the cops to show. Had he known it would take so long, Dean would have gone to the convenience store. So he’s not in the best of dispositions given that he’s hungry as hell and under some stupid withdrawal effect he swore he’d never go through again.

Lucky for him, the officers – both named Cuevas according to their badges – seem to take his case seriously.

“D’you know who did this?” the darker one asks while his partner takes a look at the car.

“Nah, I was sleeping. Asked the guy at the desk if I could see the surveillance tape, but he wouldn’t let me. Says he needs a warrant or something.”

The officer smiles and turns to his partner. “Yo, Jesse! Why don’t you take your charming self to the front desk and ask Frank for the tapes?”

Without a word, the other man walks to the office. “Pretty sure Frank will comply. We’ve dealt with him before. He’s a paranoid bastard, but he’s no idiot,” Officer Cuevas explains for Dean’s benefit. “So, Donna tells me we gotta bring you back with us?”

“Donna?”

“Sorry… Detective Hanscum.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said, but do I really have to? She said I’m not under arrest or anything.”

“She’s right, you’re not. She’d like you to come in anyway.”

“What if I refuse? Look what they did to my car! Pretty sure I’m next on their list if I don’t shut the hell up.”

“Maybe… but if that’s the case, you might wanna help us arrest whoever did this so they don’t come after you. Wouldn’t you like to know who did this?”

Dean knows the cop is right, but what he’s mostly afraid of is that it’s gonna be Sam on that tape. Whatever the detective had said, Dean is pretty sure Sam would have been able to get out of his dad’s clutches long enough to do this.

“Look, I’m waiting for my old boss to call me back. He’ll come to get me and the car, I’m not staying here.”

“You make sure to let Donna know, then. She’ll probably wanna stay in touch with you,” the officer says as his partner comes back with the surveillance tape in hand. “So… you comin’?”

Unable to find a good enough reason to refuse, Dean nods and climbs in the back seat. Both men sit up front and they’re off, reaching the precinct about twenty minutes later. It takes another ten minutes for him to be brought to what looks like an interrogation room.

Dean can’t help getting nervous, wondering if he’s made a mistake in agreeing to come. As he thinks he should have called Sonny and ask for his input, Detective Hanscum comes in holding a tray with some coffees and a box of powdered doughnuts.

“Heya, Dean. So glad you decided to come. My boys told me they could hear your tummy rumbling all the way here. I hope these are okay… it’s a police station after all,” she adds with a wink and a smile. “So, how’s everythin’?”

“Everything’s pretty much shitty, if you must know.”

The detective’s smile widens. “Aw, come on! You’re young and pretty, don’t let this little incident spoil your mood. We’ll find who did this, you’ll see. My guys are looking over the tape right now. While we wait, you wanna tell me about those other people?”

“What other people?”

“You said Brady and Sam have friends.”

“I said they must have friends.”

“Listen, Dean… I get it, I really do. But you see, I went to your workplace this morning, talked to your boss and some of your colleagues too. And yeah, they told me about our two boys other friends. I’m not about to go and arrest any of them, because as far as I know they didn’t do nothin’. I know that you know them. And that must have been who you were referring to.”

Still smiling, the detective pushes the tray toward Dean, grabbing a doughnut for herself. “Don’t be shy, take one. They’re pretty good,” she says, shoving the pastry into her mouth. “Anywho… what I mean to say is I’m counting on you to tell me if whoever we see on that tape is someone you know. Are we on the same page here?”

Taking a bite of his own doughnut, Dean nods, praying that it won’t be Luke or Ruby on that tape. All he wants is to leave this stupid town and never come back.

“Now I’ll go see if my guys have anything for me to show you and I’ll be back in a jif, all right? Okey dokey,” the detective says, leaving Dean on his own. He’s munching on his third pastry – because he’s hungry as hell – when his phone starts ringing.

He’s hesitant to answer, but when he sees Bobby’s name, he takes it. If they didn’t want him to talk to anyone, they just had to take his phone from him.

“Hey, Bobby! Thanks for calling me back.”

“Of course… what’s that nonsense about your car being wrecked? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. She’s been vandalized. Tires slashed, lights smashed… just wrecked.”

“D’you get in trouble, boy? Who did this?”

“I don’t know who did this, not yet. I’ll tell you the rest when I see you. So… wanna drive your flatbed over to Illinois and pick us up? I’ll pay you.”

“Illinois? That’s a hell of a ride, son. I can’t leave here before Saturday morning and we’ll have to drive back no later than Sunday morning.”

“That’s fine, Bobby. And if you can’t this week, I can wait another week.”

“Don’t be an idjit. Of course I’ll be there this weekend. Unless you want me to wait. You got some more stuff to do before you go?”

As Bobby speaks, the detective comes back into the room. She squints at him when she sees he’s on the phone, but doesn’t say a word.

“Say, Bobby… I shouldn’t be on the phone right now. I’ll call you later, all right?”

“What do you mean you shouldn’t—”

Dean doesn’t hear the end of Bobby’s question as he hangs up and shuts the phone off. “Sorry,” he says, putting the device back in his pocket.

“No biggie. Wanna tell me who that was?”

“Just this guy I know. He’s coming to get me and my car this weekend. I gotta make her pretty again and he lets me do this at his place.”

“Somewhere close to Pontiac or…?”

“Sioux Falls, South Dakota.”

“Huh,” the detective says as she grabs another doughnut. “I’ll still be able to call you on your cell?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. Of course I’d rather you stayed in town, would make my work much easier, but I can’t keep ya here against your will, now can I?” the blonde says, offering a powdery grin to the younger man, making him smile for the first time that day.

“Ah, I knew there was one of those somewhere!” she says, beaming at him. “Now let’s take a look at those screenshots, shall we?” The detective slides a folder in front of Dean. Inside are several grainy black and white pictures of his car as it’s being beaten up.

“You should have seen the original images. It’s almost miraculous what my team was able to do. D’you recognize the person?”

The silhouette is so blurry and dark that Dean’s can’t even tell if it’s a man or a woman. Still, he knows for a fact that it’s not Sam, or even Luke, because whoever’s on the pictures isn’t tall enough. And they’re still too tall to be Ruby.

“I really don’t. Sam and his other friends, the ones from the diner, they don’t match that shape at all.”

“I agree. Brady could have almost fit the bill, but he’s been here all night. Still, do you think we should bring Luke and Ruby in for questioning?”

Confused, Dean frowns and shrugs. “I wouldn’t know,” he lies, knowing he’d just have to tell the detective about the drugs and threats to have them picked up. He also knows that opening his big fat mouth could just create even more trouble for himself or his brother. “They didn’t do nothin’ to me.”

“Darn-a-doodle! I sure hoped you would’ve known who was on that tape. It’s a nice car you got there, such a pity to have it being destroyed like that. But we’ll do our best to find the perp, all right?”

Forcing his mouth into a smile, Dean nods and gets up, shaking the detective’s hand. “I’m sure you will. Sorry I couldn’t help more.”

“It’s quite all right. You take care of yourself, now. You got my number if anything else happens.”

  

As he emerges from sleep, Dean can’t help feeling as if he’s been on a bender again although he can’t remember drinking. He tries to open his eyes but it’s way too bright. And when he tries to reach the lamp on the side table, his arm is sluggish and unnaturally heavy.

“What the hell,” he tries to say. What comes out sounds more like gurgling pipes.

“Dean?” he hears. He knows the voice, but somehow can’t put a name to it. He tries to get up, but hands fall on him to hold him down. “Dean! Stay put, all right? The nurse is coming.”

“Cas?” Dean finally manages to say, trying once more to open his eyes. “Too bright.”

Once the blinds have been brought down, Dean tries again. “Cas will come by later,” the man sitting back next to him says.

“Sonny? What—where…”

“Pontiac’s General Hospital… you were shot, kid.”

“What?”

“What do you remember?”

“I… not sure…”

“That’s all right, don’t worry about it.”

“I hope you’re not pestering my patient, Sonny. That’s the very reason the detective was told to stay away,” a new voice says. Dean turns to see a gorgeous brunette wearing light blue scrub pants and a matching top. “Glad to see you awake, Dean. Let’s just hope it sticks this time.”

The nurse comes next to the bed to take Dean’s vitals, noting whatever she finds on his chart. “Dr. Robert will come and see you in a bit. You gave your friends quite the scare. Glad to see you pulled through.” She turns to Sonny to stare him down. “I know you’ve arranged to be able to stay here, but I better not learn that you’ve been tiring him, you hear?”

“I won’t, Carmen,” Sonny promises with a smile and a wink, making the nurse chuckle as she walks out.

“She’s pretty,” Dean comments with a slow smile.

“Pretty, and married. It’s just a little harmless flirting. How are you feeling?”

“As if I had tumbled down a dozen flights of stairs; dizzy and sore.” Dean tries to sit up, without much success. “Hey, can you lift this thing? Hurts my neck to try and look you in the eye.”

“Not sure I should,” Sonny says as he brings his chair closer. “You got shot in the gut, Dean. You’re lucky to even be alive right now.”

Dean brings a trembling hand to his midsection. He hisses in pain when it lands on some sort of pad. He’s very much tempted to throw the covers to the side and check himself out, but it all seems like a lot of work.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Sonny asks, obviously ignoring his promise.

“Not sure… came back from talking to the detective and went home. The next day I went to work. Then I woke up here.”

“You were shot at the end of your shift. You’re damn lucky Benny was with you.”

The shock of the news makes Dean hiss in pain again. “Benny? Shit, is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He stayed with you until the emergency services got there.” 

Dean tries to swallow, but his mouth is too dry. He doesn’t need to ask for Sonny to present him with a glass of water, holding the straw for him.

“Ellen? And Jo?” he manages to ask after getting his fill of water. “They’re okay?”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay, kiddo.” Sonny puts the glass back on the side table and brushes a hand over Dean’s forehead. “Just go back to sleep. We can talk some more later, all right?”

He knows he looks just about to doze off again, but Dean tries to fight it. He still has questions. “Who—who shot—who shot me?” he mumbles before drifting off again.

  

The next time he wakes up, the room is much darker than it had been before. He looks around, noticing someone sleeping in the chair; it’s probably Sonny.

  

That can’t be comfortable, Dean thinks, almost tempted to wake his friend so he could go and sleep in Dean’s motel room instead. Before he can say a single word, the door opens, making some light fall on the sleeping form.

“Cas?” Dean says under his breath, confused to see he’s the one sleeping in the chair.

The nurse that had come in flicks on a switch, making only some of the overhead lights come on. It’s enough for Dean to squint and for Castiel to wake up.

“I’m just here to check on your vitals, Mr. Winchester. Go back to sleep,” the male nurse says in a hush as he checks everything quickly.

“That’s all I do.”

“Well, you need it,” the man quips as he walks back to the door and flicks the lights off again. “Good night.”

Now sitting in the chair, Castiel looks like a deer in headlights. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He exhales and gets up, walking to the door.

“Stay.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t file a restraining order against you,” Dean says with a lazy smile.

Dean’s comment is enough to make Castiel stop and drop his head down. “I’m so sorry, Dean. If I had listened to you, if I hadn’t been so—”

“Was it Sam? Did Sam shoot me?”

The horror on Castiel’s face when he turns around is enough to reassure Dean. “Of course not! He may be involved with dangerous people, but he’d never hurt anyone.”

“He did beat me up once.”

“Dammit,” is all Castiel says before turning back toward the door. “I’ll leave you be. I’m really sorry about what happened.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ll be happy to know that I told him, Dean. I told Sam everything,” the man says before leaving the room.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Dean wakes up just in time for breakfast. Not that it’s anything appetizing, but he’s hungry as hell. And for some reason, it looks that the little he’s allowed to eat has to be wet and mushy.

“I hate yogurt… and what’s that? Applesauce?” he says with his lips pursed when Carmen places the tray on the overtable after she’s helped him sit up. “Can’t I have eggs and toast or something?”

“Your stomach needs to heal, Dean. Say goodbye to solid foods for a while.”

Dean (carefully) crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. “I’m a growing boy. Can I at least have coffee?”

The nurse laughs as she points at the styrofoam cup. “Sorry, coffee is too harsh. You get tea instead,” she says as she walks away.

“This is pure torture,” he replies, but Carmen’s already too far away to hear.

At the same moment Sonny walks in, a huge smile on his face. “D-Dog! Looking good this morning.”

“Sonny, my savior! Go find me some edible breakfast, please!” Dean pleads, waving a hand at his food tray. “They’re trying to kill me with bad food.”

“Don’t be such a baby, Dean,” the man says as he looks over the tray. “You wouldn’t wanna rip your stomach open, would you?”

“Someone’s being melodramatic.” Knowing Sonny won’t help him, Dean settles enough to try the applesauce. “I feel like a damn toddler. Or an old guy that ain’t got teeth no more,” he grouses as he eats. He’s only halfway done when he feels he can’t stomach another bite.

“Okay, maybe eggs and toasts would have been a bit much,” he admits as he pushes the tray away from him, making his old friend laugh.

“So I take you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah, I think so. That or they’re giving me the best drugs ever. Which would explain the weird dreams.”

Sonny brings the chair closer to the bed and sits down. “Weird dreams?”

“Yeah… Cas was here, saying he had told Sam everything. Just dumb stuff.”

“That wasn’t a dream, Dean. Castiel’s been here a couple of times. Stayed here last night actually.”

“Why?”

“He’s worried about you. And he feels responsible.”

He can feel a headache looming, but Dean chooses to ignore it. “And he told Sam?”

“Yeah, he did. Sam’s pretty pissed at him.”

Dean nods, not sure how to feel about it all. “And where’s Sam now?”

“Home, I presume. I offered to take Sam with us when we go back.”

“I—I can’t go back. I gotta go to Bobby’s and repair the car. He’s coming over Saturday to pick us up.”

“Dean… Bobby already came and got the car, says he’ll work on it for you.”

The headache now in full force doesn’t help Dean understand what Sonny is telling him. “But—I—how long have I been here?”

“Six days. The first four, you were barely even conscious.”

“Six fucking days? What about my job? And my room?”

“Don’t worry about that, Dean. It’s all been taken care of.” Dean knows Sonny and there’s something the man isn’t telling him.

“What do you mean? Where’s my stuff?”

Sonny seems to hesitate a bit, cracking his knuckles with his eyes on the floor. “Castiel’s keeping your stuff at his place until you’re good to go.”

“Why aren’t you keeping my stuff?”

“Well, I kinda am… I was going to take your room in town, but Castiel insisted that I come to his home instead.” Dean is satisfied to see Sonny look at least a bit embarrassed about that. “I think he really likes you, Dean. No matter what I might have said before.”

“He feels guilty, Sonny. Nothing else.”

Sonny shrugs and leans back in his chair, knowing that could also be the case. When one of the orderlies comes in to take Dean’s platter away, Carmen is with him. She shakes her head and grabs the yogurt and spoon from the tray, putting them on the side table.

“You haven’t eaten enough, you’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“Told you, I hate yogurt.”

“Then don’t eat it, but if you get hungry enough you just might change your mind.” The nurse turns to Sonny and smiles. “I’m about to change Dean’s bandages. You might wanna come back this afternoon during visiting hours.”

“I’ve been told I can come anytime.”

“That’s fine, Sonny, just come back later,” Dean says with a smile. “I’m kinda tired anyway.”

“All right. D’you need me to bring you back anything?”

“Huh… my toothbrush? Some t-shirts and sweatpants maybe? And damned underwear, please!”

  

Dean is able to stay awake for most of the afternoon. Apart from Sonny, only Ellen comes to see him, not staying more than a half hour. After she leaves, Sonny and Dean pass the time by playing poker until afternoon visits are over. The older man promises he’ll be back later for the evening visit, saying that there’d probably be more people wanting to see him.

Now all Dean wants to do before dinner is snooze for a bit, but another surprise visitor makes that impossible.

“Detective Hanscum! Took you long enough,” Dean says as a greeting, prompting the blond woman to laugh.

“I tried to come see you sooner, but Dr. Robert gave strict instructions. You weren’t to be bothered by little ol’ me.”

“Then how are you here now?”

“‘Cause you’re not dead and apparently are able to sustain a conversation. Ain’t that the best of news?”

“Do you know who shot me?”

The detective can’t hide her surprise. “You don’t remember?”

“Nah, which is weird, right? I wasn’t shot in the head.”

“And what does your doctor say about that?”

Dean shrugs. “Not sure… something about PTSD, psycho-something amnesia crap. Says I should speak to a shrink.”

“I see… well, you may be glad to know that the guy who shot you got arrested.”

“It’s not Sam Novak, is it?”

“Oh, Lord, no! It was one of his friends, Luke Milton. I believe you know him?”

“Luke’s the one who shot me?”

“That’s what your friend Benny told us. Would he have any reasons to lie about that?”

“No, no reason. Shit… maybe I should have told you what happened with Luke then.”

Rather than looking mad, the detective winks at Dean and smiles. “Come on, Dean… you didn’t think I believed ya when you said nothing had happened, right? Now tell me, what did he do?”

“Gave me some drugs… said it was a gift.”

“Did you take ‘em?”

“Nah… I’m really not into drugs, but I didn’t get rid of ‘em either. I was keeping them for—I’m not sure what for. He tried to give me more, saying he wanted me to work for him. That I’d make a lot of cash since I’m not a user.”

“Did you keep that drug too?”

“Nah… left it on the bench, one of the kids probably took it back.”

“I see. And when you say one of the kids—”

“Yeah, I mean Ruby, Brady, and Sam.”

Dean watches her as she writes his answers on her notepad. “What’s gonna happen to them?”

“Well, Luke is an adult so he’ll be tried for attempted murder. Brady’s in deep trouble, too, because he just turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago. Had he stabbed Andrew earlier, and not as efficiently, he wouldn’t be in the mess he’s in right now.”

“Is the kid okay? Andrew, I mean.”

For the first time since her arrival, the detective’s smile dies down. “I’m sorry, Andy didn’t make it. We thought he was out of danger, but then his whole body shut down. You were damn lucky, Dean.”

“Yeah, real lucky.” He has to agree with her although he doesn’t really believe it. “Does that mean I can’t leave town? If there’s gonna be a trial, I mean.”

“It would probably be easier for you to stay, but it might take some time. Your former guardian, Sonny, he told me you’d be going back home with him?”

“Yeah, probably. As soon as I can get out of here, that is.”

“And that might take a little more time, young man,” they hear Dr. Robert say as he walks into the room. “How are you feeling today?” he asks, ignoring the detective’s presence.

“Good, I think. Don’t hurt much.”

“Nurse Porter tells me you’re not eating?”

“Not really hungry. Plus, the food sucks.”

Dr. Robert chuckles as he keeps looking over Dean’s chart. “We can’t be having good food in here, you people would never leave. Still, I’d love you to try and eat some more. You need all the energy you can get.” Then he turns to the detective, finally acknowledging her. “He also needs some rest, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Donna purses her lips at the doctor, but is all smiles the second she turns to Dean. “You have my number. Let me know when you’re feeling better, we’ll schedule ourselves a little chat. Toodles!”

When the detective has disappeared, Dean gives the doctor an appreciative smile. “Thanks, doc. Didn’t know how to get rid of her.”

“You’re a patient, Dean. What you say goes, to some extent anyway. If you have trouble getting people to leave you alone, just call on the nurses. They’ll take care of them for you.” The doctor lifts Dean’s gown to take a look at his bandages. He presses softly on them, making Dean yelp. “Sorry. According to Nurse Porter, the wound is healing nicely, no infection or bleeding.”

“So I can leave soon then.”

“I understand that you’re not from around here, am I right?” Dean nods, even though he’s been in Pontiac for some months now. “I wouldn’t recommend that you travel the minute you get to leave. Of course, you won’t be able to stay in the hospital, but we might have to move you to a hospice until you’re doing well enough.”

“A hospice? With a bunch of old people? Oh, hell no!”

“It’s not necessarily old people, Dean. More like a convalescence home, if you will.” Dr. Robert places the chart back at the end of the bed. “Someone will come and see you about it all, tell you what’s available. For now, just concentrate on getting better.”

Dean thanks the doctor as he leaves, fiddling to find the bed’s remote. He’s asleep before the head of the bed is all the way down again.

  

It’s not until three days later that Dean gets the visit he never thought he would. He’s finishing up on his soup when Sam enters the room, his features closed off. At that point, Dean is convinced that Sam has come to tell him to forget they’re even related.

“Hi, Dean,” he says, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, Sam. You doin’ okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” the tall teenager says, staring at the linoleum floor. “So are you? Okay?”

“I’m not dead, so I guess I can’t complain. Getting pumped full of drugs, too. You’d probably like that.”

The stare Sam lands on Dean is dark, but it doesn’t stay that way for very long. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I never thought Luke would try and kill you.”

“What about the kid from the alley?” 

“That was all Brady. Luke had asked us to scare Andy because he owed some cash, but Brady took it way too far.”

“You did attack me.”

Sam holds his jaw tight, his trembling fists on his sides. “I know I’m messed up, all right? That’s not your fault so—yeah—sorry,” he says again before walking back to the door.

“Sam!” Just like he had done in the alley, the teenager stops, but doesn’t turn around. “Look, I know you know who I am and I’m not expecting you to wanna be my best bud or anything. Still… you’re my brother, all right? I’ll always be here for you, however long it takes for you to wanna talk to me.”

“Why?” the teenager asks, his back still turned. “I’m a junkie. And I beat you up. Why would you wanna have anything to do with me?”

Dean chuckles. “First off, you’re only fifteen so I pretty much let you beat me up. And as for the junkie thing, I’m no better than you are, okay? Except I drink, I don’t get high. I’ve just been lucky enough to meet Sonny. You got a dad that loves you more than anything, you should let him help you.”

This time, Sam turns back around. When he sees the tears on his little brother’s cheeks, Dean can hardly keep it together. “Sonny wants me to come live with him. Says he can help me.”

“I’m sure he could.”

“It’s either that or juvie.”

“Believe me, juvie is crap. Tell your dad you wanna go with Sonny instead.”

“I already did. He and Sonny are working something out.”

Dean nods, his heart beating so fast he starts to wonder if he’s having a heart attack. “You know I’ll be going back there, right? Not right now, but eventually. Wouldn’t you mind?”

Sam shrugs, coming back to sit on the chair. “It’s not like I have any say, but no, I wouldn’t mind. You know, before my mom left I used to wish I had a brother or sister. I would have liked to be the oldest, but I think I can settle for being the younger one.”

“It’s not like you have a choice,” Dean says with a cheeky smile, making Sam laugh.

“Yeah… it could be fun getting to know one another.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Sammy.”

  

Dean meets Pamela Barnes the very next day.

“Damn… is every girl in this hospital a supermodel?” Dean says when the brunette comes to sit with him. With her band t-shirt and dark skinny jeans, she looks more like a biker chick than any type of pencil pusher he’s ever seen. He’s also grateful to be wearing his own Zeppelin tee rather than the polka-dot hospital gown.

“Well aren’t you a gentleman,” Pamela says, laughing. “If you weren’t so young, I’d probably wanna take you for a ride,” she adds with a flirty wink, making Dean blush. “So, as I said before, I’m a social worker with the hospital and you’ll be happy to know that you should be well enough to be discharged before the end of the week.”

Before Dean can say a word, Pamela raises a finger and keeps talking. “As you already know, Dr. Robert doesn’t think you should go back to Brockport right away. Too long of a drive in your condition. I’m here so we can discuss your options.”

Pamela opens the folder she had brought and takes out a couple of pamphlets. “There’s the hospice attached to this hospital, you wouldn’t have very far to go. There’s also _La Maison Repos_ , which literally mean The Rest House in French. More expensive, but less clinical than the first one.”

“I don’t have much money,” Dean says, knowing not even Sonny has the cash to pay for that kind of stuff. “I’ll take the cheapest thing you got. I don’t care if all I eat is macaroni and green jello.”

“I do have this one other option. Not only is it free, but you’d be the only patient there.”

“What?”

“Mr. Novak – I’ve been told you know him – he’s offered to take you in if you’re okay with that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why exactly, but your friend Sonny seems to think it’d be a good idea.”

Dean shakes his head. “I can’t go there, the guy hates me.”

The social worker smiles as she gets up. “I highly doubt that he hates you, Dean. Otherwise he wouldn’t have offered. Just think about it, all right? I’ll be back tomorrow and we can talk about it some more.” She gives Dean a post-it note with a phone number scribbled on it. “If you have any questions for Mr. Novak, he said that you can call him.”

Dean takes the paper, not bothering to tell her he already has Castiel’s number, and the second she’s out of the room he grabs the phone on the bedside table.

“Hello?” the man answers before the second ring is heard.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Oh… hello to you too, Dean.”

“What do you want from me? You didn’t even want me to approach you or Sam and now you’re offering me a place to stay? You’re keeping my stuff at your place? And Sonny’s there too?”

“Dean… as I said the other night, I’m truly sorry about all that’s happened, all right? You’ve tried to help us and all I’ve done is push you away. Let me repay you some.”

“You don’t owe me shit. Still, I’m glad you finally talked to Sam.” Although he wants to be pissed, Dean can feel his anger deflate as he remembers his encounter with his brother. “Saw him yesterday, he told me you’re sending him to Sonny’s.”

“He asked to go. We’re working with social services to see if they’ll allow it, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Sonny has a very positive reputation, even so far outside Brockport.”

“Makes me real happy, Cas.”

There’s a pause, neither of them knowing what to say. Castiel is the first to speak again.

“So… I take that you spoke with Ms. Barnes. She said you were scheduled to meet this morning.”

“I did.”

“And what do you think? Are you willing to put everything that’s happened behind us and let me help you get better?”

“Yeah, I guess I could do that. But are you?”

“I wouldn’t offer my help if I wasn’t.”

Still, Dean is tempted to refuse, only on principle. “But… like, don’t you work? Doesn’t look like you do, but that big-ass house of yours must cost a bundle.”

Castiel chuckles. “I’m an author and I mostly work from home. I also teach and give lectures about archeology in universities during school months.”

“You’re an archeologist? Like Indiana Jones?”

“If he specializes in biblical archeology, then yes, you could say that I am.”

It’s Dean’s turn to chuckle. “It’s kinda weird we’ve never talked about what you do before, right? Come to think of it, I don’t know much about you at all.”

“We haven’t had the best encounters, you and I.”

“One was pretty cool.”

Dean hears the other man clear his throat and has to bite his lips not to laugh. “Dean, please. What happened between us was unfortunate, and it can’t happen again. Do you understand me? I’m not opening my home to you so I can take advantage of you.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t be the one taking advantage? I’m not a kid, Cas.”

More throat clearing.

“Don’t make me regret having offered. Please respect my wishes that nothing physical should ever happen again. Can you promise me that?”

“Yeah, of course I can. It’s not like I’d wanna force you to do anything.”

“I appreciate that, Dean. Thank you.”

“No problem. Thanks to you for letting me stay at your place.”


	9. Chapter 9

It takes another three days for Dean to be discharged. Sonny and Sam have already left for Brockport so it’s only Castiel that comes to get him. As he waits in a wheelchair for Cas to pull over, Dean fiddles with his phone. He opens the text application and writes to Charlie. 

> **_To Charlie:_ ** _Out of the hospital, off to Castiel’s place. Wish me luck!_

Her answer comes a couple of seconds later.

> **_From Charlie:_ ** _Good luck, Dean. With everything. ;-) ;-)_

Dean smiles at the screen and shuts the phone off, putting it back in his pocket. As he waits he starts getting impatient, almost tempted to start walking and meet Cas on the way. Except he knows the older man would be pissed so he stays in his chair and waits.

A minute later, the man’s dark blue BMW hybrid pulls up next to him. Castiel comes out to open the passenger door and help Dean get out of his chair, but the younger man won’t have it.

“Hands off, Cas… jeez! I’m not crippled you know,” he grouses as he bats the other man’s hands away. “I can get there on my own.”

Castiel doesn’t insist and takes the wheelchair back near the hospital doors while Dean gets inside the car. Dean decides to ignore the smile tugging at Castiel’s lips when he hears him hiss and curse.

“Cas—could you—” Dean says, hesitant, having trouble grabbing the door handle. Trying to make his features as impassive as he can, Castiel comes to close the door then goes to sit behind the wheel.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” he asks.

“Nah, I’m fine. I just didn’t want to pull any stitches,” Dean says as he clips his belt.

Castiel does the same and starts driving, leaving the hospital behind. The further they get from it, the better Dean’s mood gets.

“You know what I’d love right now?” he says, his eyes on the moving panorama.

“Please, do tell.”

“I’d kill for one of Ellen’s cheeseburgers. What do you say we stop by Harvelle’s? I’m buying.”

“Your stomach still needs to heal, Dean. Dr. Robert was very specific about what your diet should consist of.”

“Aw, come on, Cas! One burger’s not gonna kill me. After that I’ll eat whatever mushy crap you want!”

“I’m sorry, but if you’re going to act like a child, I’m afraid I’ll have to act like a parent.”

A heavy silence falls into the cab, Castiel’s words a clear reminder of how they came close to having that very kind of relationship. And about how they had done things a father and son should never do together.

“Is there anything else other than burgers or fries that you like at Harvelle’s? Something that you’d be allowed to have?”

“I do love a good root beer float. If I can’t have anything solid, I’d like one of those.”

“Very well, let’s go to Harvelle’s then.”

The second the two men set foot in the restaurant, Dean gets crowded by Ellen, Jo, and Benny. Castiel has to intervene at some point, reminding everyone that Dean is still healing. Before long, everyone is sitting together in one of the corner booths – just not the one Sam and his friends would sit in. 

A guy sporting a dark blond mullet brings everyone their ice cream treats before going back to the kitchen. Dean has never seen him before and he kinda feels like the guy looks out of place.

“Who’s the 80’s roadie?” he asks before moaning around his straw as he takes the first sip of his float.

“That’s Ash, he’s your replacement. He looks odd, but he’s a good worker,” Jo answers with a smile.

“Guess I got no more job then?”

It’s Ellen’s turn to answer. “You know I love you, kid, but my dishes still need cleaning and my potatoes still need peeling. If you decide to stay in town, come see me again when you can lift your arms above your head.”

Everyone at the table laughs, Dean included, until nobody dares to speak again. Dean has already consumed half of his own frozen treat when his eyes fall on Benny. The man is just staring at him, his vanilla shake barely touched.

“You okay, Benny?” he asks.

The man’s pale blue eyes are shining, suddenly brimming with tears. “Last time I saw you, my hands were covered in your blood. I thought you were dying.”

Not that he wants to give Benny a hard time, but it kind of opens the door for Dean to ask why his friend hadn’t come to see him in the hospital. The man huffs as a tear trails down his cheek.

“I—I can’t do hospitals. I never go—all that blood and gore—I wanted to so much. I tried, but I never made it past the first set of doors. I’m so sorry, brother.”

“Don’t need to be sorry, I was just wondering. I kinda thought you were mad at me for pulling you into that shit. You did warn me to stay away. You all did.”

“You have nothing to worry about, I ain’t mad. I nearly shat my pants, but I’m not mad.”

“Mr. Novak?” Jo then says, looking sheepish. “What’s gonna happen with Sam? Is he going to prison?”

Before Ellen can scold her daughter for prying, Castiel smiles at the teenager and shakes his head. “No, Sam isn’t going to prison. He’s been cooperating with the police and we’ll be working on his addiction problem. Just far away from here.”

He turns to Dean, sending him a silent question the younger man understands. Dean smiles and nods, making Castiel smile back. “You go ahead Dean, you tell them.”

“All right… so, I’ve kinda been lying to you, guys.” He looks around to find everyone looking at him intently. “Huh—Sam’s actually my brother.” There are a couple of gasps, but he continues. “Our parents died when I was four and Sammy was six months old. I ended up in foster care and Sam was adopted. By Castiel and his wife. A friend of mine found out where Sam was and, well, that’s what got me here.”

Ellen is the first to speak.

“That is just horrible, Dean. How could they do this? Separate siblings like that?”

Dean shrugs while Castiel chooses to answer. “That is something I’d like to investigate. Not sure anything could be done at this point, but I’d still like to know why they lied to us. We were told Dean had died in the fire along with their parents. Had we known, we would have adopted both children.”

“What does your ex-wife say about it all?”

“Nothing much yet. I’ve been trying to reach—to reach them, without much success.”

Ellen hums in assent then looks at her watch. “Guys, not that I wanna throw a wrench in the party or anything, but the lunch rush is right around the corner.”

As she says that, they hear the entry bells chime as a couple walks through the door. Ellen gets up and cradles Dean’s face in her hands before landing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Take care of yourself, Dean. If you don’t, I’ll be kicking your ass so hard your grandchildren will be feeling it,” she says before walking away to greet her customers.

Jo too gets up and hugs Dean delicately, making sure she stays clear of his midsection. “You better come back and see us, you hear?”

“Take care, brother!” Benny just says as he too comes to hug his friend.

“You look tired. Would you like to go now?” Castiel says when they’re alone. Dean turns to the older man and nods, his eyelids now feeling heavy. “Come on, let’s go. You can take a nap before dinner tonight.”

“What’s for dinner?” Dean mumbles as Castiel steers him away.

“Minestrone soup, pulsed into a smooth puree. And if you’re a good boy, there’s chocolate ice cream for dessert.”

  

The first morning Dean wakes up in the Novak house, he’s highly confused. He can’t remember the last time he’d slept in a room this nice or on a bed this soft. Even his own room at the boys’ home never felt this comfortable.

One of the main differences is the calmness of it all. Not the muted earth tones of the decoration – although it probably helps – but there’s not a sound to be heard. At the motel, he always heard cars driving and doors slamming, whatever the time of day.

Dean listens intently, hoping to hear his host moving around. There’s no way he’s getting up to wander in this big house all by himself. Luckily, there’s an ensuite so he can go to the bathroom without being seen.

As he walks back into the room, Dean’s nostrils pick up on the scent of freshly brewed coffee. At first he thinks it’s just his hunger that’s making him hallucinate, until there’s a soft knock at his door.

“Yeah?”

Castiel opens the door just enough to peek his head inside. He’s about to say something, but stops and just looks at Dean. It’s Cas’s eyes on his chest that reminds Dean that he had slept only wearing his underwear. He barely can hide a smirk when Castiel clears his throat.

“Breakfast is ready, if you’d care to join me,” Castiel finally says, as he forces his eyes upward. “Do you need help with your bandages?”

“Nah, I think I’m good, thanks!”

“Uh huh… just make sure you put on some clothes, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for Dean’s answer and closes the door.

As he redresses his wound, Dean can’t help finding Castiel’s embarrassment cute as hell. If he hadn’t promised to keep his hands to himself, Cas wouldn’t have been able to walk away just now. That much he knows.

Castiel is waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar. There’s a second placemat next to him with an empty bowl and a mug filled with coffee.

“Coffee? For real?” he says as he sits up on the stool. “At the hospital they said I couldn’t have any.”

“They’ve allowed it, but that’s the only thing I could get for you. No solids yet, not really anyway.”

Dean’s already sipping on his coffee and humming his delight when Castiel gets up to grab a saucepan from the stove. With a ladle, he drops some goopy stuff in both their bowls, making Dean wince.

“What’s that?” he asks, prodding the weird mixture with his spoon.

“Cream of wheat,” Castiel answers, the pride evident in his voice. He puts the saucepan back on the stove and comes back to sit next to Dean. He opens the jar of strawberry jam – which Dean had hoped was to be used on toast – and drops a spoonful in his bowl.

“Would you like some? I got maple syrup, too, if you’d prefer that.”

Dean shakes his head as he collects a tiny bit of the white breakfast food on his spoon and reluctantly puts it in his mouth. “Oh! Ew!” he says, tempted to just spit the goo back in the bowl. Still, he swallows it, praying that it will go down.

“Hence the jam or the syrup… I’m telling you, it makes all the difference. Some prefer brown sugar, but I don’t have any.”

Not only is Dean hungry, but he’s determined to not be the guest from hell. So he grabs the jam to drop three spoonfuls in the bowl and stirs. The now pink mixture doesn’t look any better, but he still tries. “Not as bad,” he admits, keeping to himself the fact that the second he can eat solid food, he’s not eating this crap ever again.

Breakfast goes by quickly and Castiel disappears into his office after showing Dean where everything entertainment related is. The moment he sits in the huge leather sofa and turns on the TV, Dean almost cries it’s so awesome. The TV at the motel sucked ass, Bobby’s wasn’t even plugged in and, well, watching TV at Sonny’s could be difficult with all the kids.

For about an hour, all he does is channel surf, unable to make up his mind. He knows he could go and see what’s on Netflix too, but instead he stops on a channel showing Dr. Sexy. It’s an old episode, but Dean loves this show so he really doesn’t mind. Finding out he’s stumbled on a marathon only makes it better and he decides he’ll be more comfortable lying down.

When he wakes up again, Dr. Sexy is still playing and there’s a blanket over him. He sits up as he yawns and stretches.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he hears Castiel say. He turns around to find Castiel standing over the stove and stirring a wooden spoon in the same saucepan as that morning.

“Cream of wheat again?” he asks, making the other man laugh.

“No… it doesn’t seem to be something you appreciate. We’ll have to talk about that, by the way. For lunch we’re having potato and leek soup.”

“Sounds good,” Dean says before stretching again. “Ow!”

Castiel is next to him in a second. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I just stretched too far, I’m fine.” Dean still pulls his t-shirt up, just to make sure he’s not bleeding through his bandages. “See, I’m fine,” he adds, looking up at Cas who swiftly looks away and walks back to the kitchen, a bit of heat in his cheeks.

“How do you feel about fruits?” Castiel asks as he pours the soup into bowls. “Because I was looking at what else you could have for breakfast – or lunch even – and smoothies seem really versatile. Doesn’t have to be fruit, can be veggies, or even both.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of those. Looks fancy,” Dean says as he sits next to Castiel.

“I don’t know about fancy, but there are products you can add for nutrition value. Like powdered proteins. I would think your present diet is quite poor in proteins.”

“That’s what meat’s for.”

As they eat their soup, they keep discussing Castiel’s ideas even though Dean’s not too hopeful. Pretty much anything has to be better than that mushy cereal he had in the morning.

  

On the fourth day of his convalescence, Dean starts to feel antsy. He’s had a banana smoothie with spinach and raspberries, Castiel’s favorite mixture yet, and he’s been left alone with the TV like every other day before. Except now even TV is boring him to death.

He glances at the clock. It’s not even ten yet and Cas will be working until noon, at the very least. If only he had his car, he could go for a drive. He’d go see the guys at Harvelle’s, have lunch with them even if he still can’t eat fries or burgers. If Cas would be willing to go, he could bring a packet of protein powder and mix it into a root beer float or something.

Dean almost salivates just thinking about it so he walks down the hall toward Castiel’s office. He knocks on the door and waits, but the man doesn’t answer. He knocks again then sticks his ear to the wood. There’s definitely movement in the room, still Cas doesn’t answer.

So Dean grabs the handle to turn it. When it works, he opens the door slightly, knocking again as he does. The first thing he sees when he peeks his head inside is the headset on Castiel’s ears. Which explains why he hasn’t heard Dean knock.

It takes a second for Dean to realize Cas isn’t acting like himself. His eyes are closed, his mouth is agape and his breathing is shallow. Then he sees it; his arm is moving in a very telling way.

Dean knows he should just turn away and close the door, but he can’t. It feels like he’s glued where he stands, his own breath short and his heart in a stammer. Then there’s the heat pooling in his groin.

He hates himself, as much for peeping as for having promised he wouldn’t try anything. And he kinda hates the huge wooden desk that’s obstructing the view.

Castiel lets out a soft moan, which is enough to shake Dean out of his daze. He takes the opportunity to move back and closes the door, ever so softly. He almost runs back to his own room, making sure to lock the door behind himself.

He takes off his pants and underwear as if they’re on fire, choking on air as he grabs his overheated flesh. He lets his body fall backward on the bed, eyes closed. Behind his eyelids dances the memory of Castiel’s engorged flesh except this time Dean is on his knees in the office rather than the living room.

He comes fast and hard, biting the back of his hand so he won’t cry out. He stays on his back until sleep claims him once more.

  

“I could drive you there and come back to pick you up later this afternoon. What do you say?”

Dean is sipping on another of Castiel’s original concoctions: pineapple, banana, vanilla soy milk, and kale. That has to be the worst one to date, according to Dean’s tastebuds anyway.

“No, it’s fine. We can go another time.”

Castiel takes a sip of his own smoothie then smiles. “Look, Dean… I know this all must be extremely boring for you. I honestly didn’t think I’d be asked to collaborate on a dig. I can’t get my hands dirty, but I can certainly help the team through research.”

“So you’re not writing your book anymore?”

“That’s on the back burner for now. I’d rather help Balt.”

Dean doesn’t ask who Balt is. Yet, he can’t help thinking that whoever that is may have been watching Cas getting off. The younger man swallows his jealousy with another sip of the awful green smoothie and nods.

“What do you say we go tonight, then? I have a video date with Balt later this afternoon, but otherwise, my calendar is free. I think dinner at Harvelle’s would be nice.”

Video date, of course. That had to be why the older man didn’t wanna have anything to do with him; he has a boyfriend. Dean goes to dump the last of his smoothie in the sink and rinses the glass before dropping it in the dishwasher.

“So you didn’t like that one, huh?”

“Nah, it was fine. I’m just not that hungry.”

Castiel gives the younger man a doubtful look, but doesn’t comment, coming to dump his own smoothie. “Well, I think it sucked. Never making that recipe again,” he says as he rinses his own glass. “I think we both deserve to have something good tickle our taste buds tonight.”

Dean is lucky that Castiel is already on his way back to his office when he says that because he would have seen Dean’s cheeks flush. Oh, he’d love something good to tickle his taste buds all right, but it has very little to do with Benny’s food.


	10. Chapter 10

“Dean, Dean, Dean… you can never stay away, can you?” Jo teases him when she comes to take his and Castiel’s order. Her smile is genuinely warm when she speaks again. “How are you doing?”

“Pretty good, actually. Food kinda sucks, but that’s why we’re here.”

“Dean really isn’t a fan of smoothies, especially the green ones,” Castiel provides, making the young blonde laugh.

“Well he’s in luck because we don’t have any of that crap here. The only smoothie-like stuff we got are milkshakes and floats. So, Dean… same as usual? Root beer float?”

“Nope! I’ll have a chocolate milkshake, please,” he says as he drops a protein packet on the table. Jo picks it up, curious.

“Salted caramel flavored protein? That sounds nasty.”

“Hey, it’s the best of both worlds, sweet and salty. Pretty sure it’ll be like mother’s milk once dumped in chocolate ice cream.”

Jo makes a face, unconvinced. “Again, ew! How about you, Mr. Novak? Are you riding the milkshake wagon as well?”

“Maybe I should, but I could stomach something more substantial myself. Lemme have one of your cheeseburger and fries, please. And a coke.”

Dean decides to play offended. “You traitor! How can you go and eat a burger, right in front of me? My poor, convalescent self.”

“Drama queen,” Jo sing-songs as she walks away, making Castiel chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I need real food in my belly. I’d love not to go to bed hungry tonight.”

He knows Castiel isn’t trying to make him feel bad, but Dean still does. “Hey, you know I’m only kidding, right? I don’t mind if you wanna eat grown-up food. You already do so much for me, don’t starve yourself on my account too.”

“I may have been slightly exaggerating. And, well… I could use a better diet. As you might have noticed when you got here, there wasn’t much food in the fridge. Sam hated that, told me once how he couldn’t stand to eat delivery or frozen meals anymore.”

“Speaking of Sam… did you get any news?”

“Not for a couple of days, no. Sonny told me this might happen. Sam needs to adapt to his new environment, to new people. And, well, detoxing can be quite difficult.”

“Yeah, it is. Kicking the booze was hard, but I wouldn’t be surprised to know that kicking drugs is even harder. He’s strong, he’ll get through it.”

“I know,” Castiel says with a small smile, nodding his thanks to Jo when she brings his soda along with Dean’s shake. “And he shares your genes so that can only be helpful.”

Dean’s cheeks redden again and he’s tempted to explain that addiction, too, is probably something in their DNA, but he doesn’t. He’s also tempted to come out and tell Cas about his mini binge that time his car got smashed. Again, he keeps quiet as he stirs the protein powder into his shake.

They’re about halfway into their meal when Dean realizes that what his leg has been resting on isn’t the table’s leg, but Castiel’s own. His heart skips a beat, yet he doesn’t move, relishing in the feeling of touching the older man. Even if it’s unintentional and very far from sexy.

Still, from that moment on he can’t stop thinking about their limbs touching, which escalates to their naked limbs touching, then to the melding of their bodies. Thankfully, the table top hides his lap as he tries to discreetly press his erection down with the palm of his hand.

Castiel must realize there’s a shift in the ambiance because he turns to Dean. “Are you okay, Dean? You look flushed.” He doesn’t wait for an answer and calls Jo over to ask for their receipt. “Maybe a night out was a bit too much, huh? Let’s go home.”

“No, Cas—I’m fine, I swear—just—finish your dinner, all right?” Dean makes sure his flannel hides enough of his crotch when he slides out of the booth. “I’ll just go to the bathroom for a sec, splash my face with water or something.”

He walks to the restroom under Castiel’s watchful eye. Once alone behind the locked door, he exhales and starts pacing around the small room. “Come on, Winchester. Keep yourself together. Cas doesn’t want you. He’s got a boyfriend and they have cybersex. Get a grip,” he mumbles to himself as he walks, trying to think of anything that could make his erection go down.

He’d like to keep hogging the restroom, but someone knocks on the door less than two minutes after he’s locked himself in. He turns the water on to start splashing his face.

“Just a minute,” he yells when whoever’s on the other side knocks again. Dean takes time to pat his face dry then gets out. The guy that had been banging on the door glares and rushes past him, slamming the door at his back.

At the table, Castiel is done with his meal. The rest of Dean’s milkshake has been transferred into a to-go cup and Jo is already coming back with Castiel’s change.

“Sucks that you have to go so soon. You’ll be coming back, right?” she says to both Castiel and Dean. Both agree together, making the girl giggle as she gets on her toes to kiss Dean on the cheek. To her own surprise, Castiel then leans in to kiss her cheek as well.

“Thank you, Jo,” he says, slipping a ten dollar bill on the table. “We’ll see you soon.”

They walk slowly to Castiel’s car, letting the summer air warm up their A/C cooled skin.

“You know, we didn’t have to go, Cas. I was fine… I am fine.”

“I know,” Castiel says as he uses the remote to unlock the doors. They both sit inside, but Castiel doesn’t start the car right away.

“Are you okay, Cas? You look spooked or something,” Dean just has time to say before Castiel’s lips land on his.

Castiel’s kisses are hungry and wet. And his hands on Dean’s jaw and neck are almost rough enough to bruise. The older man finally leans back, the expression on his face equally scared and aroused.

“Dean—please—stop me,” he pleads, his thumbs caressing the teenager’s jaw.

“Never,” Dean answers before crashing his own mouth over Castiel’s.

  

They make the drive back to Castiel’s home in record time. As they walk to the door, they’re able to keep a semblance of casual camaraderie, nothing of what’s to come transpiring from their interactions.

Once the door is closed, all hell breaks loose. Clothes start flying off as the two men blindly make their way to Dean’s bedroom.

“How do you keep doing this to me?”

Dean chuckles as he nips and licks his way all over the older man’s torso.

“Ah! There…” he yelps when Dean starts sucking on a nipple before biting it softly. Then he goes to the other one before sucking bruises all the way to his hipbones.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Dean mumbles, licking a stripe down the inside of Castiel’s thigh. “And you taste so fucking good.”

Things shift quickly when Castiel decides he’s to be the one on top. He carefully flips the younger man to his back and spreads his toned legs, his eyes dark with desire. “My turn,” he only says before starting to lavish Dean’s cock with cat-like licks and butterfly kisses.

“It tickles,” Dean says, unsure of what Castiel is trying to do. Cas doesn’t answer and keeps teasing him, massaging the inside of his thighs as he tastes every bit of Dean’s cock. Until Cas licks the underside in a single, torturously slow stroke.

“Fuck! Stop teasin’! Suck me!”

Castiel chuckles as he licks him again before wrapping his lips around the head. Dean yelps, his knuckles white from grasping the bedspread so tight. All he wants is to cant his hips up, but Cas holds him down, not letting him move much.

Way too soon, Castiel lets him go with a wet pop.

“Come on, Cas!” Dean whines, way past caring about his dignity.

“Lie on your side, Dean,” the older man orders softly, helping Dean to rest on his uninjured side. “Let me take care of you.”

As Castiel comes to lie behind Dean, he noisily spits in his palm. Dean stiffens, not sure he wants to go where Cas seems to be heading.

“Don’t worry, Dean. We’re not doing that,” he says just before kissing the back of Dean’s neck. As he does, he moves his hips to line his dick up with Dean’s crack. He starts pumping his hips, slowly, letting the friction of Dean’s ass cheeks do the work.

Dean is so aroused, he just starts stroking himself, but Cas won’t have it. “Let me,” he says, his hot breath on Dean’s ear making him shiver. Soon, all Dean can do is hold on to Cas in any way he can, one hand holding the one Cas has slung across his chest and the other clutching at the meat of his ass.

“I’m gonna come, Cas, Jesus! Fuck!” he says through his teeth, trying to stifle the need to come so they never stop touching. His hips have a mind of their own as they stutter back and forth. He inhales sharply as his balls tighten and his lower abdomen fills with light.

“Cas!” he croaks, his blood catching fire and vision going white. Castiel keeps moving, his rhythm faltering too, doing his best to soothe Dean through his orgasm. Until it’s his turn and he can’t help biting the younger man’s shoulder, moaning around the bruising skin.

They stay quiet for a while, Castiel cock still softly moving between Dean’s cheeks with his own spend aiding the movement. He also licks and kisses the slow forming bruise on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean yawns, travelling the pad of his fingers on Castiel’s arm softly. “That was so hot,” he says, his voice laden with sleep.

Castiel hums and nods, hiding his face in Dean’s neck. His hips still, but he doesn’t move away. He inhales deeply and it feels a lot like he’s hugging Dean who mumbles something in return. Castiel doesn’t ask him to repeat.

“Go to sleep, Dean. We can talk later.”

  

Waking up alone isn’t something new for Dean. Except this time, it doesn’t feel natural. The last thing he remembers is Castiel against his back and a load of drying cum in his crack. He moves a bit, a little surprised to feel both have disappeared.

It’s still night so Dean turns on the lamp. What’s pressing right now is the need to pee, anything else will have to wait. When he’s done trying not to make too big of a mess, he’s tempted to take a quick shower. Cas had evidently wiped his skin clean sometime before leaving, but Dean still feels somewhat dirty.

He’s back in his room five minutes later, not having bothered to wrap himself in a towel. As he looks for a clean pair of underwear, he notices his clothes from earlier all neatly folded in a pile on the dresser. He decides he’ll deal with that in the morning and goes back to bed.

After about half an hour of lying on his back with his eyes wide open, Dean has to accept the fact that he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon. He turns on the light again and goes back to the dresser. He grabs the t-shirt from the pile then puts on some pajama pants rather than the jeans. It’s not like he’s getting ready for the day.

Not that he ever does anything that would require real pants these days anyway.

The house is tranquil and dark. Dean tries to feel his way downstairs rather than turning on the lights as he goes. He’s able to swallow the chain of expletives he’d like to yell when he stubs his toe on a pedestal table. Luckily, the plant sitting on it doesn’t crash down.

He welcomes the full moon lighting a path down the stairs. Once reaching the bottom, he turns on the living room lights, using the dimmer so they won’t be too bright. He does the same for the kitchen when his empty stomach lets out a cavernous growl. He hadn’t finished his dinner milkshake after all, the cup still sitting in the car.

When he opens the fridge, Dean realizes that there’s not much stuff he can eat. And there’s no way he’ll try making a smoothie this late at night. He’s about to close the door when he notices a plastic dish. He remembers Castiel telling him about the leftover soup from two days ago.

Ten minutes later, Dean is sitting in the living room, watching a muted horror flick as he sips on the reheated soup. And when the light outside starts to change, the movie is almost over and Dean is dreaming of popcorn and peanut M&Ms as he drools on the leather sofa.

  

What wakes Dean some time later is the coffeemaker buzzer going off. He sits up, thinking he’ll find Cas having breakfast in the kitchen, but it’s empty. There’s a smoothie waiting for him on the counter. This one looks nice with its purplish tint, sign that it must be heavy with blueberries.

He goes to fill two cups of coffee, putting them both on the breakfast bar. He then sits in his usual place, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. The purple smoothie may be deceptively bland, Dean still gulps it down like the glutton he is. He can’t wait to be done with this crap and start eating real food again.

As Dean pours himself a second cup of coffee, he starts to wonder why Cas hasn’t come to the kitchen yet. As far as he knows, the man still needs his own boost of caffeine. He dumps the now lukewarm coffee in the sink to pour some fresh coffee in Castiel’s cup. He adds a bit of milk then walks to Castiel’s office.

Dean thinks about the day before and how he witnessed Cas rubbing one off. Now, after what they did last night, catching him again shouldn’t be problematic, but Dean still feels uneasy.

Yeah, they had sex, again. Somehow Dean can’t believe Cas won’t be regretting it this morning. The gruff response he gets when he knocks on Castiel’s door pretty much cements the idea in Dean’s mind.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I thought you’d like some coffee before—”

Dean flushes when Castiel points to his cup. Still, the man has a soft smile on his lips when he takes off his headphones.

“Thanks, Dean, I already had my fill.” As he often does, he clears his throat, trying to keep an eye on his computer screen, but he seems unable to stop looking at Dean. “I’m sorry I couldn’t join you for breakfast. I had some pressing matters to attend to.”

“No, that’s—that’s fine. I’ll see you at lunch then? I wanna try to create my own smoothie flavor. If you’d like to try it.”

When Cas speaks again, he’s gone back to paying attention to his computer rather than ogling Dean. “Do what you will. And please, don’t worry about me. Important discoveries were made in Israel and I’ll probably be glued to my computer until pretty late.”

Castiel may have been amicable, Dean still feels rejected. Yet, he doesn’t show it. “All right… you still gotta eat so I’ll bring you some lunch later. Just let me know if you need anything.”

All Dean gets as a response is a noncommittal hum as Castiel puts his headphones back on. He walks back to the kitchen, dumping the hot liquid in the sink once more.

Instead of going to sit on the couch, as he does pretty much everyday, Dean takes his coffee out to the back of the house. Until about two in the afternoon, the patio is nicely shaded and cool, making it the ideal hangout spot.

He remembers that he’s left his phone in his room, something he rarely ever does. He goes back inside to find the device under the clothes Cas had folded for him. He almost puts them on, but decides he’d rather stay in his PJs for a while longer.

Once he’s outside again, he checks the phone to see he has a couple of missed texts and phone calls. It’s like a bowling ball dropping in his stomach when he sees they’re all from Sonny. 

> **_From Sonny:_ ** _Hey D-Dog, I know it’s early but please call me. Anytime._
> 
> **_From Sonny:_ ** _Dean. Please call whenever you get this. Hope all is ok_

Without even listening to the voicemail, Dean calls Sonny back, worried something might have happened.

“Finally!” the man answers. “Where were you?”

“Here. Just forgot to check my phone.”

“Is everything okay? Because Castiel isn’t answering either. Should I be concerned?”

At any other moment, Dean might have hinted about what had gone down, but he feels now isn’t the right time. “He may be distracted, says his friend found something in Israel on a dig. Want me to go get him?”

“Just tell him to call me as soon as possible. But tell me, did Sam call you?”

“Nobody else but you. What’s going on?”

“Have Cas call me back, all right?”

Sonny hangs up before Dean can ask any more questions, making him even more nervous. He usually doesn’t hesitate to share what’s happening with Dean. Especially since he’s been helping with the kids for a couple of years now.

Still, he knows he can’t worry about that right now as he stalks back into the house and to Castiel’s office. He knocks and opens the door without waiting, uncaring about whatever could be happening on the other side.

This time Castiel looks annoyed by the interruption.

“Dean, I told you—”

“Did you check your phone? Just talked to Sonny, says he’s tried to call you.”

Whatever’s happening on the computer is instantly forgotten as Castiel opens a drawer to fish out his phone. “I turned it off, didn’t want to be disturbed. What’s going on?”

“No idea, he wouldn’t tell me. Just wanted me to make sure you’d call him back soon.”

Castiel nods as he turns on his phone. It starts to chime with missed calls and message alerts. The man doesn’t check any of them and just calls Sonny.

“Please stay, Dean!” he says when Dean turns to leave. “Sonny, Castiel Novak. What’s going on?”

Castiel listens for some time, frowning. “One second,” he says again before fiddling with his phone for a short while. “No, he hasn’t. How about Dean?” he adds, glancing at him. “I see. What can I do?”

The more he listens, the more deflated Castiel looks. He lets himself fall back into his chair, his frown slowly turning into a pained expression. “I understand. I believe that would be his girlfriend’s vehicle… yes, Ruby… I’m not sure that she is, I’ll have to call Detective Hanscum and discuss this with her.”

Another pause. “I haven’t tried in a while… if you think it could help… there are things he has yet to learn about his mother… no, I understand. I will make sure to explain the situation. Thank you very much, Sonny. And please, keep me informed… yes, of course, I’ll do the same. Talk to you later.”

Although he’s only heard one side of the conversation, Dean is still pretty sure he knows what’s going on. “Did Sammy bolt? Is that what’s happening?”

Castiel nods and puts his head in his hands, letting out a shaky sigh. Dean is worried the man will start crying, but he doesn’t.

“Where did I go wrong?” he asks instead, not really waiting for an answer. “What should have I done? Tell him he was adopted? Marry some other woman so he’d have a damn mother? Lock him up in his room? What?”

The more he talks, the louder Castiel gets. And the more he fails to understand, the angrier he is. “Tell me, Dean! What’s going through your brother’s mind, can you tell me? Is this a family thing? Are you cursed? Tell me!”

Castiel is now yelling, coming to stand right in Dean’s face. After last night, such proximity would have been welcomed by Dean, but the yelling and anger make him cower back.

The older man follows closely, never leaving more than a step between them. Soon, Dean feels the wall at his back, unable to go any further.

“Tell me, Dean! What other disaster will you bring upon my home?”

“Please, Cas. Just—let’s talk about this, okay?” Dean says, hoping his placating tone will help calm Castiel down. He doesn’t want to have to use his fists to defend himself. Not against him.

“Talk about what? About how everything was perfectly fine until you came here to destroy my family? Wanna talk about that, Dean?”

“You and I both know your family wasn’t perfect, Cas. You may have convinced yourself everything was fine, but nobody else believed it. Especially not Sam.”

Castiel leans even closer to Dean, the tips of their noses almost touching.

“You don’t know a single thing about us. You never had a family so don’t boast yourself in thinking that you know how it works.”

For the first time, the words hit Dean where it hurts. And Castiel knows it. Dean’s features close off and he swallows down all the cruel things he’d love to spew at the other man.

“Well, you got me there, Cas,” he says slowly, barely containing himself. When he pushes Castiel back, it’s a little harder than he had intended. “Don’t worry, I won’t be bothering you any longer.”

When Dean walks around him and leaves the office, Castiel lets him do it.

And as he stands outside with his duffel bag, waiting for the cab to pick him up, Castiel doesn’t come out to try and stop him.

On his way to the bus station, he takes out his his phone, trying to ignore the tremors in his fingers and the heaviness in his heart. After taking longer than usual to write his message, he hits send and shuts his phone off. 

> **_To Sonny:_ ** _On my way to Sioux Falls. I’ll call you when I’m ready to come home._


	11. Chapter 11

Dean had been lucky enough to catch a bus out of Pontiac only a couple of hours after getting to the terminal, but the ride still takes a long time. More than once he almost gets off the bus to start hitchhiking, but he forgot to bring his meds with him. His whole body soon hurts too much to even entertain the idea.

He’s not surprised to see Bobby at the Sioux Falls terminal the next afternoon. He may have told him not to come, he’s still pretty glad to have someone there for him as he hobbles toward the other man.

“You look like crap,” Bobby offers as a greeting, seeing Dean drenched in sweat and holding a hand over his stomach. He snatches Dean’s duffel, frowning as he does. “Didn’t they say you weren’t fit to travel?”

“Forgot my meds,” Dean replies as he follows Bobby to his truck.

They get back to Bobby’s home in record time, which Dean can certainly appreciate. Until he spots Castiel’s hybrid parked in the lot. It makes it very tempting to try and jump out of the pick-up and run the other way. 

“What’s he doing here?” he says instead, going for a neutral tone.

“He’s waitin’ for ya, what do you think?” 

Bobby’s tone is gruff, clipped. He parks next to the BMW and shuts the engine off. “Tell me, boy… did this man try and take advantage of you? Is this why you ran?”

Bobby’s question almost makes Dean laugh although he understands where the old man might be coming from. “No, that’s not it at all, Bobby.” He sighs, having a hard time even thinking at this point. “If anything, I’m the one who’s been taking advantage of him.”

“Okay… so there’s no funny business going on between you two?” Bobby glances at Dean when he doesn’t answer. “Boy, he’s old enough to be your dad. If you ask me, that looks a lot like predatory rape.”

This time, Dean can’t hold in his laughter. “I swear, Bobby, it’s not like that. We’re just—whatever we were is done with so you don’t need to worry, all right? Plus, I’m nineteen, not twelve. Just let it go.”

With a sigh, Bobby gets out of the truck and waits for Dean to follow. They haven’t even reached the stairs to the porch when Castiel walks out of the house and waits for them to join him, his brows knitted in a worried expression.

“You don’t look so good,” he says, making Dean harrumph.

“What are you doing here, Cas? How do you even know Bobby?”

Instead of answering, Castiel holds up Dean’s forgotten medication, making the pills rattle in the bottle. He turns to walks back inside, holding the door open. Dean makes a beeline for the kitchen table, hissing in pain as he sits down. A second later, two pills and a glass of water are placed in front of him. 

“I need to inspect your wound,” Castiel says, his voice rougher than usual. “When did you change the bandage last?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Damn it, Dean! Do you even want to heal? Lift up your shirt.”

Dean grits his teeth and obeys, noticing Bobby has left them alone. Castiel moves a chair to sit in front of Dean, dropping a bag of medical supplies on the table.

“I really hope for your sake that it’s not infected,” he mutters, delicately pulling on the medical tape. “If it looks bad at all, we’ll have to go to the hospital. I’m not a doctor.”

“It was Sonny, wasn’t it? He told you where I was going?”

“He called me when you wouldn’t answer your phone, yes. After telling him what happened, I pretty much had to beg for him to tell me where you were headed.” Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean’s wound as he speaks, hands gentle. “Doesn’t look infected.” 

“See, I’m all good. You can go now, thanks for the meds.”

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Castiel says, looking Dean in the eye for the first time since his arrival, but he drops his gaze almost immediately. “I was out of line, I know that.”

“No, I get it. If I hadn’t come to Pontiac, you’d have kept on living in your little fairytale. Until you found Sammy dead from a gunshot… or an overdose.” He knew he was being harsh, but Dean couldn’t stop the words falling out of his mouth. 

“You’re not being fair,” Castiel counters as he wipes the wound clean, making Dean hiss. “Why did you leave?”

“Do you even remember what you said to me, Cas? And it’s not like you tried to make me stay or anything.”

Castiel looks up again, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Is that what you wanted me to do? Run after you? Beg you to stay?”

“I wasn’t expecting anything, Cas.” Dean averts Castiel’s eyes and looks down at his belly. “Looks clean enough. You can go now.”

“You’re coming back home with me, right? I’m pretty sure we can reschedule your therapist’s appointment. Didn’t know what to tell the secretary when she called.”

Dean huffs, rolling his eyes. “Forget the shrink, I came here to get my car. Then I’m going back home, to Brockport.” Before Castiel can say another word, Dean keeps going. “Any news from Sam? When I called Sonny this morning, he hadn’t had any.”

“No. I tried to call, but he’s not answering.”

“Can’t you track his phone?”

“What do you think? He turned off the GPS option. Only thing we’re sure of is that he left with Ruby.”

As they talk about Sam, Dean feels the tension between him and Cas melt a bit. “He’s just acting out,” he offers, hoping to reassure Castiel.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know where he is, or if he’s safe at all. For all I know, they’re overdosing on crack somewhere in a ditch.”

“Did you call the cops?”

“I called Detective Hanscum. She wasn’t too happy, if you can imagine that. I’m told she’s called Sonny and gave him a piece of her mind. Anyway, bottom line is that Sam is still a minor and Ruby isn’t. If they crossed state lines, it’s a criminal offence on her part.”

“Where could they be going? Back to Pontiac?”

“Maybe. That’s why I have to go back; in case he comes home. Will you please come with me?”

Although Dean is tempted to live in the lap of luxury again, he’s still pretty pissed at Cas. Doesn’t matter that he’s worried as hell for Sam.

“Thanks, but I’ll go back to Sonny’s. If Sam goes back, I wanna be there.”

They hear Bobby’s faint voice coming from the living room. “And how are you gonna get there? The car’s not ready and it won’t be for a while, idjit.”

“I can drive him back,” Castiel calls out before turning to Dean again. “Will you at least let me do that?”

As he considers his options, Dean knows Castiel driving him is one of the best choices he’s got. He also knows Brockport’s pretty far out and he’s not sure he’s ready to spend a whole day stuck in a car with the man.

“Thanks, but I’ll find a way. Take the bus or something… it’s just too far. I wouldn’t wanna be to blame if you missed Sam going through Pontiac.”

Casting his eyes down again, Castiel sighs, defeated. “You’ll never forgive me for this, will you?”

“What does it matter if I do?”

“Because whether we want it or not, we’re family, Dean.” Castiel’s voice is low and shaky. “You’re Sam’s brother and if he wants you in his life, it means you’ll be in mine too.”

Dean’s whole body stiffens. “Get the fuck outta here, Cas,” he says through his teeth, trembling. “I’m not kidding, man. Just go!”

Again, Castiel doesn’t seem to be willing to put up a fight. He gets up and walks to the door, the smile he’s trying to force onto his face looking more like a grimace. “Goodbye, Bobby,” he calls out as he opens the door. “Thanks for everything. The both of you,” he adds for Dean’s benefit before leaving.

“What happened now?” Bobby asks when he walks back into the kitchen. “Another lovers’ spat?”

“Shut up!” Dean spits, then notices the scowl on Bobby’s face. “Sorry, Bobby… no, no lovers’ anything. I just can’t deal with him.” He drinks the last of his water before speaking again. “So, the car… you say it’s not ready?”

“I’m old and have a business to run, boy.”

“Fine. I’ll do the work myself then, if you don’t mind.”

Bobby points his index finger in Dean’s face, making him cower back a little. “Oh, hell no! You’re going back to Brockport and that’s the end of that. You ain’t fit to work on anything and I ain’t got no patience to play Florence Nightingale with your sorry ass.”

The older man takes a folded piece of paper from his shirt’s front pocket and gives it to Dean. “You’re taking the bus back to Sonny’s. It leaves here Thursday evening.”

Bashful – yet impressed – Dean takes the electronic ticket. People oughta stop buying him shit. “Thanks, Bobby. But, let me pay you back, all right? I got cash, still got a good chunk of what you gave me when I left.”

“You shut your trap,” Bobby grouses. “And anyway, Sonny’s the one who payed so you gotta take that up with him.” The older man goes to the door. “We’re having chili for dinner,” he announces before walking out to go back to work.

  

The bus ride to Buffalo takes even longer than expected, but Dean walks of the bus in a better shape than when he got in Sioux Falls. As promised, Sonny is waiting to drive him back to Brockport. When they hug, Dean has to swallow the lump in his throat he’s so glad to see his mentor.

“You’ll be glad to know that they’ve found Sam,” Sonny announces as he leads the way to his truck.

“They did? Where?”

“That dumb girlfriend of his drove them back to Pontiac, of all places. Brought him to her place only to have her dad call the cops on them. She may be charged with kidnapping.”

“Why? Didn’t Sam run away?”

Sonny shrugs as he unlocks the passenger door. “Sam says she wouldn’t bring him back. Said he thought she had come to visit him, but she just kept on driving.”

As Dean digests the new information, Sonny comes to sit behind the wheel, but doesn’t start the engine. “He’s asked me to give him another chance. He swears he didn’t want to leave.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I’m tempted to, unlike Castiel. Doesn’t help that Sam keeps begging him not to press charges.”

Sonny starts up the truck and drives, soon embarking on the highway. “What do you think, Dean? You think we should welcome him back?” he asks after a while, his eyes on the road.

His whole life Dean has wanted to find his brother. He can’t be sure that him saying yes now would be the best answer, that it would be entirely unbiased. Still, there’s the hope that he could reach out to him somehow.

“You know my answer to that, Sonny. I’m just not sure it’s the right one.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I think Sam’s a good kid. He’s really working hard on getting clean even though it’s hell. Now I’m just worried that he’s gonna have to start all over again.”

“Maybe a real detox center’s what he needs.”

“Maybe…”

They don’t talk again until they reach Brockport. The kids run out to greet them before the engine is even off. Dean doesn’t have time to brace himself, getting the wind knocked out of him by Timmy.

“Hey, hey! Timmy! Dean’s hurt, be careful,” Sonny says as he pulls the kid off Dean. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean answers even though he’s a little choked up. He ruffles the boy’s hair and smiles. “Takes more than that to take me down, huh, kid?”

Timmy nods, overjoyed. “Now you’re back forever, right? You’re not leaving again?”

Dean smiles and shrugs. “I might as well. If you’ll have me,” he answers, prompting the younger kids to yell their appreciation.

  

It takes a little over a week for Castiel to make himself known again. To his own surprise, Dean gets a call from the man himself. After debating if he should even answer, he has to admit that his anger is overpowered by his curiosity.

“Hey, Cas!”

“Hello, Dean.”

Castiel doesn’t say another word and Dean waits, not ready to start babbling as if all is okay between them. Until he can’t take it anymore.

“Got something to say, Cas? Or did you just call to breathe in the phone like some sort of creeper?”

“Yes, sorry. I do.” There’s a sharp intake of breath on the line. “We’re moving closer to Brockport… Sam and I.”

“Why?”

“Because after much discussion, I have come to believe my son when he says that he had no intention of running away.”

“Are you pressing charges against Ruby?”

“Sam and I have reached an understanding. I won’t press charges, but he’s not allowed to see her ever again. And he has to go back to Sonny’s and do the work required of him.”

“Really? Thought you’d be pissed at Sonny or something. You know, blaming him or some shit.”

Castiel laughs harshly so Dean knows the other man is far from amused. “I may be temperamental, but I’m not blind nor unappreciative. I know Sonny has nothing to do with Sam’s… mistakes.”

They stop speaking again for a couple of minutes. It’s Dean who eventually breaks the silence again.

“Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you be telling Sonny about all that crap?”

“I already did. His only condition to Sam coming back was that it had to be okay with you. And I had to be the one asking.”

Dean doesn’t know if he should laugh or be pissed. “Of course Sam can come back. I’d like nothing more.”

“And what about me moving to Brockport?”

“It’s a free country, man. You don’t need my permission.”

“We might run into one another from time to time, that’s all.”

It takes a while for Dean to answer and when he does, he’s unable to keep the bitterness from his tone. “Don’t you worry. If we do, it’ll be as if we’ve never met.”

“Dean… please don’t do this. I said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, you did. Doesn’t make what you said back there any less harsh. But you know what? Sonny pretty much convinced me that college would be a good idea. So if everything goes right, I won’t even be here come the new year.”

“That’s great news. Going to college, I mean,” he adds when Dean groans into the phone. “Also—did—did you find a therapist? It’s actually Detective Hanscum who’s asked me. She’s hoping you’ll remember what happened that night. When Luke shot—”

“Yeah, she called me too. Found some guy in town, Dr. Creaser. We’ve only had one session and I’m pretty sure he’s crazier than I am.”

“Those interested in psychology often have problems or their own. Or so I’m told.”

Dean’s heart flickers when he notices the warmth in Castiel’s tone. He forces himself to remember how pissed he still is… or should be, rather.

“Whatever, man. Is that all you had to say?”

Castiel coughs, clears his throat, sighs. “Yeah, pretty much. Just, thank you. And again, I’m so very sorry. What I said to you, it was unnecessarily cruel. Not that I meant a single word, of course. I only hope we can get past this someday.”

Deans hangs up without answering, knowing he was about to cave in. And he doesn’t want to. There’s no way he can let himself fall for that man again. 

Because it’s just that damn easy.

  

Sam lands at Rochester’s airport a couple of days later. Dean had asked if he could go and pick him up, thrilled beyond belief when both Sonny and the kid agreed. It would be the first time they saw each other since the hospital and he wanted to do this one on one.

Dean is so happy that he’s grinning even before Sam steps out of the terminal. “Damn, Sammy. You’re even taller than you were a couple of months ago. If you keep going, you’ll be taller than I am.”

“Wouldn’t that be funny,” Sam answers, a reserved smile on his own lips.

As they drive back to Sonny’s, Dean tries to keep the conversation light. What he’d really like to do is ask every little question he can think of. Except he has to remind himself that the brother thing is still very new to the kid. So instead they talk about mundane stuff; favorite music, movies, and tv shows.

Apparently, Sam is more of a bookworm than he had let on. Sadly, he hasn’t read any of Dean’s favorite books and vice versa. Same thing goes for music when Sam doesn’t seem to care much about classic rock, instead being well versed in whatever is currently popular.

“Okay, now this one’s important,” Dean announces grimly, holding up his index finger. “It’s gonna make or break our brotherly bonds, so think carefully about what your answer’s gonna be: Star Wars or Star Trek?”

The question has the desired effect; Dean’s heart flutters when Sam erupts in laughter.

“Aw, man… that’s a trick question. I kinda like them both, but honestly, I’m much more into Marvel.”

“Oh! How about Batman?”

“Meh… not my favorite. And certainly not Marvel.”

The boys are still arguing over the legitimacy of Batman as a superhero when Dean parks the truck at Sonny’s. Before they step out, Sam turns to Dean and smiles.

“I think I’m gonna like getting to know you, Dean. I still gotta get used to the idea of having a brother, but I’m working on it.”

And for Dean, it’s as if the Heavens have opened up to grace him with infinite joy.

“That’s makes me real happy, Sam. Real happy.”


	12. Chapter 12

The next month goes by pretty quickly, although it hasn’t been easy for Sam. To his own admission, he hasn’t been able to resist going back to his old habits while on his impromptu road trip with Ruby. They had consumed mostly uppers, but it had made Sam crave for some of the stronger stuff.

The last Sunday before school starts, Dean believes his brother has worked hard enough to deserve a special treat.

“In Pontiac, you had Harvelle’s an in Brockport, we got Cus’s Place. It’s awesome, you’ll see.”

Dean hopes he hasn’t made a blunder in mentioning Harvelle’s. He turns to see Sam seemingly unbothered as they walk up to the diner. Once they get inside, Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, relishing in the aromas he’s missed so much.

“Dean?”

His eyes fly open when he recognizes the voice. “Robin?”

“What are you doing here?” they ask as one, making them both laugh. Rather than repeating themselves, they fall into each other’s arms in a strong hug. There’s another smell Dean has missed a whole lot; the mix of Robin’s strawberry shampoo and vanilla perfume.

“When did you get back?” the girl asks as she lets Dean go. “And… wow! Did you get taller? Or skinnier maybe?”

“Maybe a bit of both. So much has happened, Robin, I’ll have to tell you about it sometime.” He points his thumb to Sam, beaming. “That’s Sam! That’s my brother!”

“Oh, Dean! You found him?” Robin squeals, wrapping her arms around the younger man and hugging him just as hard as she had done Dean. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Sam!”

When she moves back, there’s mist in her eyes. She wipes a hand across her face, giggling. “Don’t mind me, I’m a cry baby.” She waves a hand at the mostly empty dining room. “Take your pick, I’ll be back with…” She squints at Dean. “Still a fan of root beer?”

“You know it! How ‘bout you, Sammy?”

“I’ll have a root beer too.”

Robin trots away while Dean leads his brother to a table near the windows. They sit down and Dean hands the plastic menu over to Sam.

“I know what I’m having. You go on and try finding something that looks any better.”

“And what’s that you’re having?”

Dean knows he’s grinning like a madman but he can’t help it. He only hopes he won’t start drooling all over the table. “It’s Cus’s Special Burger,” he starts with a little too much gravitas and wide hand gestures. “Think of a burger, but not just any kind of burger. It’s a cheeseburger except you don’t see the cheese, no. It’s in the fucking meat, Sammy. Then, they wrap that meat in bacon. Top it all off with fried onions and hot sauce and you got the best burger you’ll ever have in your life.”

“Are you sure you should have that stuff? Sounds like it could rip another hole in your gut.”

If Dean had pearls to clutch, he would have done it he’s so offended. “How dare you say that? Did you even listen to what I said? And it comes with curly fries too. The spicy kind of curly fries.”

“I’d rather have a salad I think,” Sam says, his nose back in the menu.

“Growing boys don’t eat salad, Sammy. You need meat. And cheese… lots of cheese.”

“There’s chicken and some feta in that one.”

Robin soon comes back with their drinks. She takes their order, also trying to convince Sam to try the Special, to no avail. When she leaves again, Dean notices Sam’s amused stare on him.

“What?”

“You like her.”

“Of course I do. We dated for some time, before I went to find you.”

“And now that you’re back, are you gonna be dating her again?”

Dean likes Robin a whole lot, even believed they were in love at some point, but he knows it wouldn’t work now. Not after—

“Don’t think so. Or maybe, I really don’t know. We haven’t seen each other in almost two years so I kinda moved on, you know? And she probably did too.”

Sam nods, sipping on his root beer. “And what? You’re done dating? At nineteen years old? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone, not even in Pontiac.”

“To be fair, we didn’t really hang out together.”

“True. But we’ve been living under the same roof for close to a month now and I don’t think you’ve been out on a single date.”

“I’ve been busy,” Dean replies, hoping the flush on his cheeks isn’t too apparent.

“Funny! My dad says the same thing. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since Mom left. And that was ten years ago. He’s probably been on some dates, but it never amounted to anything, you know? Never met any of his girlfriends if he had any.”

Even though he knows the mother topic could be a sensitive one, Dean still feels it’s the perfect overture. He grabs his wallet and pulls a folded picture from one of the slots. He smoothes it reverently before sliding it to Sam.

“Speaking of mothers… I thought you’d like to see ours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup! Found it in the Impala’s glove box, shoved between the pages of an old bible. So that’s Mom here, holding you. And that’s me, with the ears. And there’s our Dad.”

“How do you know it’s them? Maybe it’s just some random picture?”

Dean’s smile is a bit on the sad side. “I’m lucky enough to kind of remember them. To be honest, if I hadn’t found the picture I don’t think I could have told you what they looked like. When I saw the pic, I just knew.”

Sam’s voice is trembling when he speaks again. “They’re so beautiful. Mom—Mom looks like an angel.”

“I know. Wish I could remember their voices sometimes.”

When Robin comes back to the table with their meals, she doesn’t comment on the gloomy atmosphere. Instead, she rubs a soothing hand on Dean’s back before walking away.

“I’ll make you a copy,” Dean says softly, holding his hand out to take the photo back. If any bit of food was to be dropped on the picture, he’d never forgive himself. Once it’s tucked in his wallet again, he groans as he considers the masterpiece before him.

“Really, Dean?” Sam says, making Dean scowl at him.

“Ssshhh! This is a religious experience for me. No talkin’.”

He savors the moment, smelling the sandwich and making sure it’s still as beautiful as it ever was. Once satisfied, he takes a huge bite, moaning in delight when he spots the string of cheese still connecting his mouth to the patty.

“D’you want me to leave the two of you alone?” Sam asks, highly amused.

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” Dean croons, addressing the burger. “He’s just jealous. He knows I love you best.”

Again, Dean is elated to hear Sam chuckle at something he said. If only to make him laugh some more, he makes sure to put on a show as he eats his burger. To a point where Robin has to come see him and ask that he tones it down, as the elderly couple sitting a couple of tables further down looks utterly scandalized. Which is, oddly enough, what makes Sam laugh the hardest.

“So, Robin… how’s Juilliard been treating you?” Dean asks as his brother keeps laughing. He smiles when he sees her blush, remembering those other times when he’d been the one to put color on her cheeks.

“It didn’t work out.”

“They kicked you out?”

“No, of course not. It’s just—I kinda realized I’m not a big city kind of girl. Plus my dad had a stroke last winter so I just never went back. My mom needs me here.” She’s smiling, but Dean knows she isn’t being entirely truthful. Still, he chooses not to call her out on it.

“I guess we’ll see each other around then.”

Robin squeezes Dean’s shoulder, softly. “I’d like that,” she says as she walks away.

When Dean turns to his brother again, the kid is looking at him with a shit-eating grin. Which he finds pretty irritating.

“So… nervous about school?” Dean asks, hoping it’ll make Sam forget about Robin.

“A bit,” he says with a shrug, poking at the remnants of his salad with his fork. “Mostly, I wonder what the other kids will say when they know I live at Sonny’s.”

“I speak from experience when I say that those who’ll wanna give you shit about living in a Home are assholes. They don’t deserve a second of your time.”

“Still would prefer not to have to deal with that.”

“I know. But you won’t be alone, Max is starting up at Brockport High too. You guys can hang out together.”

Sam looks down at his plate and shrugs again. “I—Max is kinda creeping me out. Sometimes he looks at me like he wants to kill me or something.”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. He looks at everybody like that, always has.”

“How long has he been at Sonny’s?”

Dean has to take a minute to think about it. “Not sure. A year or two before I got there, I think.”

“What did he do?”

“He didn’t do nothing. He’s just a kid who’s been beaten up and abused to no end. He had to get out of there. It really messed him up, but he’s not really dangerous.”

As Dean drives them back about ten minutes later, Sam looks more comfortable. “That picture you showed me, it was in the Impala I saw you driving before?”

“Yeah. It was dad’s car, his boss made sure we’d get it back.”

Sam clears his throat. “I’m sorry it’s been destroyed. I swear I had nothing to do with this.”

“I know.”

“Can’t believe Luke is such an asshole.”

“He’s a drug dealer, Sam. What did you expect?”

“Don’t know, he could still have been a nice guy. He’s Ruby’s cousin and she was my girlfriend so, you know… he’s always been real cool with me.”

“I bet he was. Just don’t worry about it anymore, okay? What’s done is done and you won’t see these losers again. Right?”

“No. I’m done… for real this time.”

“I’m glad! And, great news, Bobby’s bringing the car over later this week.” Dean turns to Sam while still keeping an eye on the road. “And then I’ll teach you how to drive. That car’s also yours, Sam. It’s our legacy.”

“Dad already showed me how to drive. I’d still like you to show me how to drive a stick,” he adds quickly. “My dad’s car is an automatic.” 

Dean nods, already picturing the two of them taking on the back roads, driving all the way to Niagara Falls and back. He’d also make sure to pass down every single little thing he’s ever learned about cars to him. 

He would finally become the big brother he was always meant to be.

  

It’s not a surprise for Dean to see Bobby and Sonny get along. Still, he hadn’t been expecting to overhear them talk about him, long after the younger kids had gone to bed. If he’s tempted at first to join them, he instead stops and listens.

“He’s a good kid,” he hears Bobby say.

“He really is. He was dealt a crappy hand, but he still pulled through. Continues to do so.”

Bobby hums in assent as glasses can be heard clinking. “You should have seen him working on that car. If mechanics were a super power, that’d be his… hands down!”

The more he listens, the less Dean is tempted to walk into the kitchen. He’s pretty sure he’s crimson red by now anyway, but he can’t stop listening either.

“He’s just that brilliant. And I’m real glad that he wants to take over for me here, but he could do so much more, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Sonny. What you’re doing here is important as hell. I wish I’d have met someone like you as a kid. Whatever Dean chooses to do, it’ll be great.”

Now, with the heat in his cheeks having spread to his eyes, there’s no way Dean can walk in there. Except that he’s not ready to go to bed either.

“Only thing that worries me is that Novak character. I’m still not convinced that he isn’t the kind of man to prey on young boys. Did his kid ever say anything that could—”

Without even thinking, Dean barges into the kitchen, startling both men. “Bobby! I told you it wasn’t like that.” He glances at the table, the sight of the whiskey they’re sharing making his skin tingle. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he comes to sit between them.

“First off, Sam doesn’t know shit about me and… you know…” he says in a hush. It’s still too early for Sam to be asleep and he could very well be wandering around in the house, listening in just as Dean did. “So just don’t say a thing about it all. Second, I’m an adult and I was very much on board with whatever happened.”

“I gotta say, Bobby, I wondered too at first. And it raised some questions I felt the need to ask.”

Sonny’s admission makes Dean gasp. “You didn’t!”

“What do you think, Dean? Of course I did. We’re talking about a middle-aged man having sex with a nineteen year old. I think it’s only normal to wonder if he’s not into younger boys.”

Dean is mortified. 

“Is this why he wants nothing to do with me? Did you tell him to leave me alone?”

“All I did was ask questions because I needed to make sure Sam wasn’t being abused. As far as you’re concerned, I know you. And I believe you when you say that it was mutual attraction.”

“He’s still twice his age,” Bobby says in a huff before swallowing the last of his whiskey.

Instead of answering, which could very well turn badly, Dean goes to the fridge to grab a can of rootbeer and pops up the tab. “I’ll be on the porch. The sky’s pretty clear tonight, lots of stars to see.”

Before Dean can leave, Sonny speaks again. “We only want what’s best for you, Dean. I can’t speak for Bobby, but I’m pretty sure he’s just worried, is all.” Next to him, Bobby nods as he pours some more liquor in their glasses.

“Yeah, I know. But you don’t need to worry, all right? Whatever little happened is never gonna happen again.”

  

Learning that Bobby has a contact in the mechanics business around these parts is the best news Dean has heard in a long time. It takes a single phone call and Bobby’s assurance that Dean’s the bee’s knees for him to get a job at Hawkins Auto Shop, in Greece. It’s thirty minutes away but the owner, Annie, has promised him nice wages if he’s as good as Bobby says.

With school back in session, Dean doesn’t need to help out with the kids as much during the week. So instead he goes to work while still pulling his weight on the weekends, which Sonny uses as an excuse to refuse any rent money Dean tries to offer him.

“Hey, Dean! Wanna come here for a sec?” Dean hears Annie call over the speakers. He wipes his hands and walks out of the garage to reach the shed in the back. She hands him the sander she’s been using on the green Fiero the second he walks in.

“You ever prepped a car for painting?”

“Yup. Did the Impala I’m driving. Painted it too.”

She winks at him before grabbing his chin and giving him a quick kiss on the mouth. “You, my boy, are my savior! I got some errands to run but this needs to be done today. Can you take care of it for me?”

“Yeah, of course. What about the Toyota?”

“You can go and finish taking care of that but as soon as Gordon’s done with his lunch, you go on your break and then take over in here. Can I count on you?”

“No problem. Want me to do the paint too?”

“Kid, you told me you’ve done this before,” Annie says, scowling at him.

“No, I did—I mean—not today but like, tomorrow?”

“Look, just sanding and wiping the dust off’s gonna take you to the end of your shift. We’ll see tomorrow morning if I’m gonna let you finish the job.” She winks again and slaps his butt. “Now go! When Gordon comes back, take your half hour then sand away.”

When Dean finishes the sanding and wiping earlier than Annie had expected, she’s impressed enough to promise she’ll let him paint the car. He comes in early the following morning and the next to make sure he does the job right. He’s buffing the finished result when Annie comes to inspect his work one last time before the client comes to get his car.

“Boy, it’s like you’ve done this your whole damn life,” she says, walking around the vehicle to make sure all is up to par. “It’s an innate talent you got there. Took me much longer to achieve this level of skill and I was born into it. My dad would have loved you.”

Dean is beaming, his cheeks dangerously getting as red as the new paint job. He loves doing this stuff, he truly does. That and taking engines apart and then putting them back together. He even loves it enough to make him rethink his plans of taking over Sonny’s place one day.

“I remember you telling me you’d like to attend college. How’s that going?”

“Sent out applications. Hoping to get accepted for the winter semester.”

Annie approaches Dean and takes the buffer from his hands to drop it on the workbench. She then takes another step, tilting her head up to look at him in the eye.

“I really like having you here, Dean,” she says, letting her index finger glide over Dean’s chest. “If that college thing doesn’t work out, I want you to know you have a job here.” She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses Dean on the corner of his mouth, softer than she had done a couple of days before.

At the same moment, Gordon storms into the shed, making the door’s window rattle.

“Someone’s on the phone for you, Annie. They say they can’t wait,” he spits, giving Dean the stink eye.

Annie sighs and takes a step back. “All right, I’m coming. Dean, you’ll think about what I said?” she says before walking out while Gordon keeps eyeing Dean.

“Need something?” Dean asks, a little taken aback by the other man’s dark stare on him.

“Only that you keep your hands to yourself, kid,” Gordon warns before turning away and shutting the door behind himself.


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel moves to Upstate New York two months later. Sam told Dean his father was on his way so seeing the man drive his BMW up the road late one afternoon isn’t that much of a surprise.

“Hello, Dean,” the man says as he walks up to the house. “Is Sam around?”

“Yeah. I think he’s sleeping though. The last week has been rough.”

“Yes, he’s told me as much.”

He comes to sit next to Dean on the porch swing. “How are you, Dean? How’s your wound?”

“It’s as if nothing happened. Been eating like a grown up for a while now, so, all is fine.”

“You look thinner, but well.”

“My appetite still isn’t what it was, but cheeseburgers are back on the menu. I’ll be back to my old self soon enough.”

When Sonny comes out on the porch, Dean can’t say if he’s disappointed or relieved.

“Castiel! I thought I heard a car. How was the drive up here?”

“Incredibly boring,” Castiel says as he gets up to shake the other man’s hand. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait until Sam wakes up then I’ll go to the house. The movers should be there early tomorrow.”

Sonny winks at Dean as he pulls Castiel inside. “That house you bought, it’s the one in Hilton with the green shutters, right?”

Dean doesn’t hear Castiel’s response, not that he needs to. He knows what house Castiel bought because Sam asked him that they go take a look a couple of weeks ago. And, of course, the house is amazingly beautiful. Looks a bit like the one in Pontiac except that it overlooks Lake Ontario.

He’s playing around with his phone when steps in the gravel have him looking up again. He’s surprised to see Sam walking toward the house, feeling the hood of his dad’s car as he walks by. “When did he get here?” he asks, coming to sit beside Dean.

“Fifteen minutes ago, maybe. Where were you? I thought you were sleeping.”

“I couldn’t.”

Wanting to make sure Sam hasn’t been getting into trouble, he examines his face. “Your eyes are red.”

“I’m tired, Dean. I didn’t take anything, I swear.”

“I believe you,” he says, having to admit that other than looking exhausted, there’s no sign of Sam being high. “Where did you come from?”

“Went to run for a bit. Sonny says exercise might help with the insomnia. It’s not like I can take sleeping pills. Can’t even have NyQuil.”

“No, me neither.” He points his thumb to the door. “Your dad’s with Sonny.”

“Thought as much. I’ll let them catch up a bit.” Sam clears his throat before talking again. Dean had noticed he often did that when embarrassed, just like his dad. “So… did you guys talk at all?”

“Who? Me and your dad? We said hi, told him you were sleeping.”

“Look, I know you’re pissed at him, but he’s not all that bad. He’s just—he can be a bit awkward sometimes, you know? He’s a good guy, I swear.

Dean feels the heat bloom on his cheeks. “What did he tell you?”

“That—that when I—when I left with Ruby, he was pissed and he took it all out on you. He knows it’s not your fault. And he feels real bad about it too.”

“Is that all he told you?”

“Well, yeah! What else could he have said?”

“Nothing. Look, I’m not as pissed now. I’ll get over it, all right? Just gimme some time.”

Sam smiles and claps Dean on the back before getting up. “Thanks, Dean,” he says as he walks back into the house.

  

“Want me to try and get you in?”

Dean knows Charlie means well, but getting into college isn’t the problem. He’s been accepted, there’s just no way he can pay the tuition.

“No, I’m fine. What I’d like is to see my bank account have a couple more zeros.”

“Pretty sure I could—”

“I’m kidding, Charlie. Keep saving dolphins or whatever, I’ll manage just fine.”

“But you’re going, right?”

Charlie is the only person Dean can tell this to. If he knew, Sonny would insist on paying for college. Not that he has that much money to spare himself. “I’ll try again in a couple of years. In the meantime, I’ll ask Annie for more hours so I can start piling up some cash.”

“You gotta be eligible for financial aid, Dean.”

“I am, but I’d rather not owe anything to anyone.”

“Do you even know how much college costs? Around thirty-five big ones a year, dude. A year! Maybe selling drugs would have been a good thing after all.”

“Ha! Real funny, Bradbury!”

“I know! So tell me, speaking of dealing drugs… how’s that whole thing going? When do you have to go to court?”

“In about six months. Which should give me enough time to unlock whatever I’m blocking out.”

“Still got nothing back?”

“Nope… it’s not like Martin isn’t trying though. He’s got a couple of loose screws, but I kinda like him. He even made me buy a book on meditation.”

“Dean Winchester? Meditating?”

“I know, right? It’s not easy, and really boring, but I think it’s helping. Or at least, it’s helping me sleep better.”

“Dean?” Sam says as he knocks on Dean’s bedroom door.

“Hold on, Charlie. Sam wants to speak to me. Yeah, Sam… come in!”

The teenager, wearing plaid pajama pants and a white tee, opens the door. “Sorry to disturb you but—hum—I’m going to my dad’s tomorrow for the weekend. He’s asking if you could give me a ride and he’d also like you to have dinner with us.”

“Sam… I’ll give you a ride, but I’m not staying for dinner.”

“Why not?” he asks, Charlie asking the same thing over the phone.

“Look, I’d rather not impose on your family time.”

“Except that you are family. You’re my brother, Dean. And my dad insists.”

“You gotta accept, Dean. If only for Sam’s sake,” Dean hears Charlie say. He’s tempted to hang up on her, but he just lowers the device instead.

“Look, Sam… I get it, I really do. I’m just not sure I’m ready to spend an evening with him.”

“I’ll be there. Please, Dean… do it for me.”

Sam has the saddest set of puppy eyes Dean has ever seen and he can’t help being irritated by it. The little shit has finally figured out that Dean would pretty much do anything for him. Especially if he looks at him like that.

“Oh, all right!” he says, hiding his weakness underneath a thick layer of gruff. “But I’m not having fun,” he warns, pointing a finger at the now beaming teenager.

“Thanks, Dean! You won’t regret it.”

“I already do,” he mumbles as he puts the phone back to his ear. On the other end, it sounds like Charlie has been yapping nonstop.

“…though it could be weird to become your own brother’s step-fath—”

“Jesus, Charlie! What the hell?”

“I was just thinking out loud. So, you’re going to dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah. You should have seen his face, I couldn’t say no to the kid. I can only hope Castiel won’t be making him do that too often.”

“As I was saying before, maybe he’d like you guys to reconnect.”

“Not sure how I’d feel about that, honestly. If he wasn’t Sam’s dad, I’d be on him in heartbeat but—”

“What’s different now? From the very start you knew who he was. You didn’t seem to care then.”

“You’re right, I didn’t.” He sighs, hating that deep down, he still doesn’t really care. “Even now, I’d go along with it, but… I’m pretty sure Sam wouldn’t like that very much.”

  

The next day, the brothers are driving up to Castiel’s home, with Sam behind the wheel. They make the way in about twenty minutes, getting to Hilton only a couple of minutes before five.

Sam grabs his bag from the back seat then comes to stand next to another car parked in the driveway. He peers inside, trying to find clues as to whom it may belong to. He turns to Dean, pointing at the car with his thumb.

“You see this car before?” he asks. “Like in town or something?”

“Nope… maybe it’s one of his archeologist friends,” Dean offers with a shrug. “The license plate’s from Maine. Know anyone in Maine?”

“Nope. Wonder why he insisted that you’d come if it’s not a family thing,” Sam muses before stalking to the house with Dean on his heels.

When they reach the door, Dean notices how Sam hesitates before opening it. His hand hovers for half a second over the doorbell, but he changes his mind and elects to open the door.

Dean hadn’t been inside the new house yet, but he can’t help being hit with the familiarity of it all. The furniture is the same as in Pontiac and even the overall layout of the home is similar. 

“Creepy, right? It’s like he moved the whole house or something,” Sam whispers right into Dean’s ear. “Except it’s kinda nice that the kitchen is separate. I hated the open floor plan in Pontiac.”

“Yeah,” he answers, even though he’s not sure creepy is the right adjective or if he cares that much about the kitchen. For some reason it almost feels like he’s coming home, which he finds more terrifying than anything.

“Dad! I’m home!” Sam calls out, interrupting whatever conversation has been happening somewhere in the house.

“In the kitchen,” they hear the man call back.

Both teenagers follow the voice, Dean making sure to stay at least a couple of paces behind his brother. He may have been invited, he still feels out of place. As he walks, he tries to find any excuse to run out the door and drive back to Sonny’s. He finds nothing.

They join Castiel in the kitchen and he’s not alone. A shorter man with brown hair is sitting on one of the stools, drinking beer. When he sees them, the stranger puts his bottle on the counter and gets up. He stands there, his eyes going back and forth between Dean and Sam.

It doesn’t take anything more for Dean to understand; he knows who the man is. That’s why Cas wanted him there. Sam is about to meet his mother again and there’s a big chance it’s not gonna go right.

“Come in, boys, sit!” Castiel says, grabbing a couple of sodas from the fridge for them.

Sam thanks his dad, but his eyes never leave the strange man. He’s squinting and his lips are pinched. “Do I know you?” he eventually says, making everyone in the room stiffen. “You kinda look familiar.”

“I—” the man starts to say, only to be cut off by Castiel.

“Sam, this is Clark. You’ve met him before.”

“A long time ago,” Clark provides, his eyes a little too glassy. Except Sam doesn’t see it.

“Not sure I remember you. You’re a friend of my dad’s?”

“You might say that, yes.”

A heavy silence falls on the room. It is soon broken by Sam opening his soda can, the gurgling noise of his drinking the only thing that cuts through the thick atmosphere. As his brother drinks, Dean keeps his eyes on Castiel and Clark as they silently debate about whatever is to happen next.

“Is everything okay?” Sam asks when he too notices the wordless joust.

The smile Castiel plasters on his face is laughable it’s so fake. “Of course. Everything’s great. Clark drove here from Maine. Can you guess what he’s brought us for dinner?”

“Lobster?” Sam almost squeals, now looking at the man as if he were God incarnate. “I love lobster! How ‘bout you, Dean?”

“Don’t think I’ve ever had it,” he has to admit, hoping they can’t see the disgust he’s trying to hide.

“You’ll see, it’s awesome,” Sam says, overjoyed. “Are they in the sink?” he asks his father who nods as he pulls up one of the beasts to show it off.

“That thing’s alive!” Dean says when he sees the brown insect-like thing wiggling its antennae and legs. “I don’t eat alive food.”

  

“That shit’s amazing, man.”

Everyone at the table chuckle, but Dean doesn’t care, too busy trying to get as much meat from the carcass as he can. And that garlic butter…

“I think you cleaned it up, Dean,” Castiel says as he gets up to start clearing the table. “You guys stay seated, I’ll be back with coffee and dessert.”

Except the atmosphere in the dining room is soon a bit too stuffy for Dean. He excuses himself, saying he needs to use the bathroom, but joins Cas in the kitchen instead.

He goes to the sink – no lobsters in sight – to wash his hands. “What’s going on, Cas? Why haven’t you told Sam yet?”

“Clark thinks that if Sam gets to know him a bit before we tell him the truth, it’s gonna be an easier pill to swallow.”

“Damnit, Cas! I thought you’d know by now that all secrets do is fuck shit up. Haven’t you guys waited long enough?”

For the first time since their arrival, Dean is close enough to Castiel to notice how he’s not in his normal state. If his breath is anything to go by, the man probably spent a good chunk of the afternoon drinking.

“Are you drunk?” Dean asks in a hiss.

“Maybe a little bit… what’s it to you?”

“You’re right, it doesn’t concern me.” Dean comes closer to Cas, making sure their gazes meet. “So tell me this then: What am I doing here?”

“You’re—you’re family, Dean. And Sam may need you.”

“That’s it?”

“What other reason could there be?”

Dean huffs, turning his back to Cas. “No reason. Just don’t drag this out too long, okay? And maybe you should stick to coffee from now on.”

In the dining room, Clark has his eyes glued to Sam who’s busy with his phone. Sam doesn’t even look up when Dean comes back while Clark drops his head to look at his own hands. Until he looks up again to send Dean a pleading look.

Scrambling to find something to say, Dean goes with the only thing he can think of. “So, you live in Maine?”

“I do… pretty near the shore too. It’s really beautiful.”

Dean nods, already out of ideas. Actually, he has a lot of questions, but as long as Sam’s in the dark, he can’t ask any of them.

“How about you, Dean? You live at the Home for Boys, with Sam?”

“Yeah, I do. Actually, I should have been kicked out when I turned eighteen, but Sonny kept me around. I may wanna take over someday too.”

“That’s a nice plan to have.” Clark turns to Sam who’s only been half interested by the conversation. “How about you, Sam? Do you know what you’d like to do later?”

Sam shrugs, his eyes not leaving the phone. “Maybe an archeologist, like my dad. Or a lawyer, like my mom. Not sure yet.”

Only Dean notices the sudden mist in Clark’s eyes. “You’re young still, you don’t need to make up your mind right away.” Clark takes a deep breath before speaking again. “That applies to pretty much anything in life, you know? Like… a good looking boy like you, you probably have tons of girls or even boys following you around, don’t you?”

This time, Sam shuts off his phone and looks at his father’s guest. “I don’t know about tons of girls and boys, but there’s this one girl who’s like, obsessed with me or something.” He rolls his eyes and throws his arms in the air, suddenly acting overly offended. “I can’t go anywhere in school without having her as my shadow. She’s a total pain in the ass.”

“Is she cute?” Dean asks, thinking that if the girl is indeed cute, it shouldn’t be so bad.

“She’s not ugly, but I don’t think she’s all there,” Sam says, pointing to his own temple. “We’ve only started school and already she’s got my name written all over her stuff. ‘Becky & Sam Forever’ and shit like that. The other day, she even came to hug me and I had trouble making her let go.”

“If you don’t want her to touch you, it’s a sexual assault. You know that, right? Doesn’t matter that you’re a guy and she’s a girl. She’s still violating you.”

Sam’s cheeks are aflame as he listens to Clark. “She’s not—she eventually let me go…”

“No, I understand. Still… keep that in mind anyway, would you? Just make sure you’re never alone with her. If she’s ever pissed at you, it’ll be her word against yours. And keep everything she sends you just in case you need it.” Clark chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. That’s the lawyer in me talking,” he blurts, then coughs. He has a panicked look in his eyes when he turns to Dean. “How about you? Got any stalkers?”

“Maybe I would if I were in school, but the only stalkers I got right now are the kids at Sonny’s. And my boss at the garage is a bit handsy, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Dean has a girlfriend,” Sam says, making Dean choke on his own saliva.

It doesn’t help that Castiel comes back in the dining room right at that moment, holding a tray with coffee and dessert. 

“No, I don’t…”

“Yeah, you do. I know you and Robin went out last week. Twice. And you came back pretty late too.”

When Castiel speaks, Dean could swear his tone is clipped and frosty. “Sam, I don’t think Dean appreciates having his personal life spread out like that. Whatever Dean does, and whoever he does it with, is none of your concern.” Castiel looks up at Dean, but only for a second. “It’s none of anyone’s concern.”

A couple of minutes later, Castiel has served everyone with coffee and a piece of almond tart. As he sits back down, he looks at Clark and clears his throat.

“I think it’s time, Clark,” he says before taking a first sip of his coffee.

The other man nods, suddenly looking flushed. He forces his head upward to look at Sam. “Sam—” he starts to say, the rest jamming in his throat. He takes a sip of coffee then tries again.

“Sam, there’s no right way to say this.” A tear slides down Clark’s cheek as he takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Sammy. You did know me once. You knew me back when you used to call me Mommy.”


	14. Chapter 14

A silence heavy as lead falls on the room. Dean keeps his eyes on his brother, worried about how he might be receiving Clark’s announcement.

“You’re lying,” Sam eventually says, his voice trembling.

“I wish I was.”

Sam’s gaze on Clark is dark, furious. “Why did you abandon me?”

“It wasn’t about you, Sam. I just—I couldn’t deal anymore.”

“Deal with what? Me? Was I such a bad kid?”

“Of course not,” Clark says, shaking his head. “As I said, it wasn’t about you, not really. It took me a long time to understand why, but every time you’d call me mom, it felt like some part of me was dying.”

“Clark—”

“Let me say this, Castiel. I think Sam deserves to hear the truth. You all do.” As he specifies this, Clark sends Dean an apologetic glance. Then he looks at Sam again. “I knew pretty early on that I didn’t want to bear children. Castiel knew that and he was okay with it. That is why we went with adoption. Took some time to get approved and when we were, Castiel was working so much… I don’t think he ever got caught up in all the details of it.”

Clark turns to Dean once again and this time stays on him. “They asked me if we would be willing to adopt siblings or older children. And even though Cas and I had already discussed this and decided that we would, I said that we didn’t want to. I was just so scared and felt pretty much alone and—”

Castiel sounds just as appalled as Dean feels when he cuts his ex off. “And you thought telling stories about Sam’s whole family being dead was the way to go?”

“Of course not!” The hurt in Clark’s eyes is unmistakable. “What do you take me for, Castiel? You seem to think I’m evil or something.”

“Well… aren’t you?” Sam says through his teeth.

“I guess I may appear evil to you, yes. But I swear I didn’t know about Dean. Not until your father told me.”

Sam huffs and nods. “Still doesn’t explain why you left. Or why the hell you think you can come back.”

“Castiel was so relentless, he kept calling me… I couldn’t keep running anymore, I had to make things right. Whatever you may think, I’ve always loved you, Sam. I just—I couldn’t be the mother you needed. I couldn’t be a mother, period.”

“You really think I would have minded that you became a guy? I was five years old. I would have been confused for a couple of weeks, tops.”

“It’s more complicated than that, sweetheart.”

The pet name’s effect is instantaneous; Sam’s bottom lip starts trembling as his eyes fill with tears. He clears his throat, but still doesn’t seem to be able to speak.

“You see, back then… not only couldn’t I accept being a mother. By the end, I couldn’t even handle being in your father’s presence, couldn’t handle his touch. Not because I didn’t love him, but because he was a man.”

“He’s always been a man.”

“I know. And I had been ignoring my true self for the better part of my life, always felt like a stranger in my own body. Thought at first I was gay and believed I owed myself to at least try to find someone I could love. Until I realized that wasn’t exactly it.”

“You know lesbians or even trans people can have kids, right? Nothing you’re saying is making you leaving me okay.”

The tears on Clark’s cheeks mirror the ones on his son’s own. “I know. I was selfish.”

“What you were was a shit mother! Just go back to where you came from and never try contacting me again.” 

Sam turns to his father, his expression not softening up one bit. “And you! You knew all this time, didn’t you? Did you ever consider telling me? Between this and the adoption thing, I just can’t trust you anymore, Dad.”

Before Sam can stomp out of the room, Clark gets up to stand in front of him. He looks imposing although shorter by at least three inches. “Sam! I understand that you’re mad at me, believe me, I do. I know that we can fix this. Let me try, would you?”

“I don’t remember you giving me a choice ten years ago. So this time, I’m the one who gets to decide. Leave. Me. Alone!” He turns to Dean who has gotten up as well. “I’ll be going back with you to Sonny’s, but right now I just gotta go and clear my head.”

A few moments later, the front door slams shut. Castiel gets up, a bit out of sorts about what to do now. “Look, Clark… I would have offered you the guest room, but I don’t think Sam’s gonna be receptive. Not tonight anyway. I wanna try convincing him to stay over this weekend, as we had planned. I know he won’t stay if you’re here.”

“I get it, Castiel. No need to explain.” Clark smiles sadly as he walks to his ex-husband. The expression on his face is pained, yet tender. “You did warn me Sam would probably want nothing to do with me,” he says before taking Castiel in his arms.

From where he stands, Dean watches the two men hug, ignoring the jealous pang in his heart. And then again when Clark softly takes Castiel’s face in his hands and kisses him on the lips. He doesn’t linger there as it’s more like a peck, something close friends might do from time to time.

“I’m so sorry, Castiel. There are so many things I wish I would have done differently. If I could go back in time, knowing what I know now, I’d never abandon him. I know it’s no excuse, but I was stupid. And selfish—”

“And confused,” Castiel completes for him, an understanding smile on his lips. “I’ve had time to get over it all. Sam will need some time as well.” He then looks at Dean, more softly than he has ever done before. “And he’s got Dean to talk to. If someone can help our son, it’s him.”

Clark turns around, his gaze about as tender as Castiel’s. “I think so too. I’m just real sorry that my stubbornness will have prevented you from getting the family you deserved.”

“We are his family,” Castiel says. “That means you too,” he adds for Clark’s benefit.

“Only time will tell how right you are about that.”

  

Sam has been gone for over an hour now. Clark too has left, leaving Castiel and Dean alone. They wait for Sam’s return in the living room, Castiel surveilling the outside while Dean is immersed in a photo album.

“I can see why Sam keeps his hair long,” he says when he finds a picture of Clark and Castiel. One where Clark still is a – gorgeous – woman and where Castiel looks like a movie star with his long hair and aviator glasses.

“Hannah really liked my hair back then. Thought it was because she found me hot. Now I’m thinking it might have made me look like a girl.”

Dean almost laughs out loud; there’s no way Cas looked anywhere close to being a girl. “Maybe,” he still answers, preferring not to dwell on how hot and undeniably masculine Dean finds him.

He keeps flipping the pages, delighted to see his brother grow up even if it’s only through pictures. “Who’s this?” he asks when he spots another kid in numerous shots. A little girl that looks about Sam’s age with her platinum hair in pigtails. “Is that Jo?”

Castiel leaves his post at the window to come sit next to Dean. He looks at the album and smiles.

“Indeed, that’s a young Joanna Beth Harvelle. I’m telling you, those two were inseparable. Ellen or me would always have to drive to each other’s homes to drop or pick-up our kids.”

Dean nods, suddenly a little too curious. “How about Ellen? She’s awesome, right? And kinda hot.”

“Indeed, she is.” Castiel looks up at Dean and smirks. “No, Dean. Nothing ever happened between myself and Ellen. If that’s what you were getting to.”

“I wasn’t,” Dean lies, flipping the pages until Castiel stops him with a hand splayed on the book.

“That’s the first time Sam really smiled after Hannah left,” he explains, pointing to a picture with a young Sam wearing goggles and a lab coat, playing with bright green goo. “For his sixth birthday, we went to Mad Science, some kind of science club for kids. All I wanted was for him to forget about his mom for a couple of hours, you know?”

On the next page are similar photos, Sam getting older in each one. There’s even one with Castiel too sporting a labcoat and his hair in disarray and black smears on his face. “Looking good there, Cas,” Dean says, just because he can’t resist.

“Yeah… Sam wanted me to dress up as a mad scientist that year. It’s the last time we went. The year after that, when he turned twelve, Sam said he was too old. I know he kind of missed it, though.”

The more he points out pictures and explains them, the closer Cas seems to be getting. Dean knows he should ask the other man to keep his distance, but he can’t. Until it becomes unbearable and he almost throws the album on the coffee table.

It’s enough to make Castiel clear his throat and slide away from Dean. As he takes out the old family picture from his wallet, Dean kind of hopes it’ll make the general discomfort ease up.

“Made a copy of this picture for Sam, don’t know if he showed you. That’s our family before—before the fire.”

As expected – or as hoped – Castiel slides back next to Dean. He doesn’t try to take the picture from him, instead leaning in to take a good look.

“He didn’t. That’s a beautiful family, Dean. Your parents look like very nice people.”

“I think they were. Not that I remember much about them. I have this recurring dream though, just not sure if it’s real or not. I’m with my mom in the kitchen and she’s cutting the crust off of my PB&J. Then we’re making pie. Other times we’re all in the living room and my dad introduces me to my baby brother. Says his name is Sammy and he lets me hold him.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s real or not, in my opinion.”

“I guess.”

Dean puts back the picture in his wallet and turns to see Castiel looking at him, even closer than he was before. He swallows hard, unable to look away. And when Cas’s hand brushes his thumb over his jaw, Dean leans into the touch with a sigh.

“You’re so pretty,” Castiel murmurs as he leans further into Dean’s personal space. Soon, they’re close enough for their breaths to mix together, but neither tries to go any further. “Do you even know how hard it is to stop myself from devouring you right now?”

Licking his lips, Dean shakes his head. Oh, he knows, but he wants Cas to keep talking to him in that throaty voice of his.

“As you ate your lobster earlier, I had to force myself not to look at you. You were so delectable, your pink lips and fingers glistening with butter, sucking on the meat…” He licks his lips and sighs. “You have awful table manners, but it still made me so hard… I don’t know how to explain it.”

Dean sighs again, darting his tongue out to try and get a taste of Castiel. He hears Castiel’s breath catch in his throat as he leans back.

“If we start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” Castiel now has both hands splayed on either side of Dean’s neck. “And Sam will be back soon.”

The sight of Castiel’s hardening bulge is almost too much to bear. “Cas… please… I’ll be quick, all right? Let me suck you.”

“Oh, God… Dean, we can’t…” he says before crashing his mouth over Dean. Then he leans back again, too soon for Dean’s taste who tries to recapture Castiel’s mouth.

At the same moment, they hear the front door opening. In an instant, they’re each at their end of the sofa, Dean holding the photo album on his lap again.

“I was starting to worry, Sam. Where did you go?” Castiel asks, sitting in such a way that his crotch is hidden. Not that it matters in the end because Sam doesn’t even look at his father.

“Can we go back to Sonny’s now?”

Dean glances at Castiel who only has eyes for his son. For a second he looks like he wants to talk, but he keeps quiet.

“Please?”

“You’re sure you don’t wanna stay and have a chat with your dad instead?” Dean asks even though he already knows the answer. “I could leave you guys alone.”

“I got nothing to say to him. I’ll be waiting by the car.”

Castiel watches as Sam walks away then turns to Dean again. “He’s really mad.”

“Looks like it.”

“I know you don’t have to do me any favors, but can I count on you to take care of him?”

Dean nods then puts back the book on the table. He leans forward, just not as close as they were before. “You know I already do that. What is it you really wanna ask me?”

“That’s all I want.”

“Right, of course. Yeah, no problem. I’ll take care of your son for you,” Dean says, his tone somewhat acidic now. “Sonny will probably be calling you tomorrow about it all. Bye, Cas.”

“Bye, Dean. And thank you,” he hears the man say as he closes the door behind himself.

Sam is leaning on the Impala, staring at the starry sky as he waits for his brother. He doesn’t say a word when he gets in the car, nor does he speak until they’re about half way home.

“Did you know?” Sam suddenly asks, startling Dean.

“Did I know what?”

“About my mom.”

He knows he should tell Sam the truth, still Dean hesitates. And for a little too long apparently.

“I can’t believe this! You’ve known us for like two minutes and you already know more than I do about my own life?”

“I’d say I now know as much as you do, if it’s any consolation.”

Sam huffs, apparently not in the mood to laugh. “It’s not. And when did you ever learn about all that shit?”

Knowing he better come clean, Dean sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “All right… you know that time when you came at me in the alley? Well, you weren’t wrong. I had gone to see your dad and told him about Luke giving me drugs and stuff.”

There’s a chuckle, a bitter one. “I fucking knew it!”

“Yeah, you did. And I’d do it again, didn’t care that you bashed my face in. After that we kind of exchanged numbers, just in case we heard or saw something. And, well… I think your dad needed a friend. He confided in me, told me about you being adopted and about your mom leaving and… you know…”

“And you didn’t think for a second to tell me? Thought you wanted to be there for me! Be my big bro and shit.”

“What did you want me to say, Sam? If I remember correctly, you hated my guts. Now imagine if I had come to tell you that you’re adopted, that I’m your long lost brother, and that your mom who left you ages ago has grown a dick and is calling herself Clark. Pretty sure that would have gone swimmingly.”

“At least it would have been honest, Dean. Even if I hadn’t believed you, the day I finally learned the truth I would have remembered that you tried to help. Now, all I see is that you’re just as bad as they are.” There’s a sharp intake of breath before Sam speaks again. “Stop the car, Dean.”

“What? No! Why?”

“I’ll find my own way home. Just let me out!”

“Don’t be stupid, Sam. We’ll be home in ten minutes.”

“I said pull over, Dean! If you don’t, I swear I’m jumping out,” Sam yells, already with his hand on the handle.

“Jeez, all right! Hold on, would you?” Dean says as swerves onto the side of the road and stops. “It’s too dangerous, Sam. You’re gonna get hit by the first car that drives by it’s so dark.”

Sam ignores him and gets out. Before he closes the door, he leans in, his lips pinched in anger. “Does Sonny know? About my mom, I mean.”

“If he knows, I wasn’t the one to tell him, Sam. I swear,” he says, placating. He knows for a fact that Cas has discussed this with Sonny at some point, but he’s not about to let Sam know that. There’s too big of a chance that he’ll decide to just keep walking. “Come on, get back in the car.”

Sam’s only response comes in the door being flung closed. Dean doesn’t want to leave Sam behind, but he knows that if he stays it’ll only make matters worse between them. So he drives away and grabs his phone. A couple of rings later, Sonny answers.

“Yeah?”

“Sonny! Dinner didn’t go too well and now Sam’s walking back home.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, I think you should come and pick him up. He’s on the 19, a little after Lawrence Road”

“Shit… all right! See you at home later then.”

  

Dean has been home for almost two hours when he hears the front door open. He can’t really hear what Sonny and Sam are talking about, but they don’t sound overly tense. He’s tempted to join them, but is worried it might be a bad idea.

It comes as a total surprise to hear a knock on his bedroom door, followed by Sam’s voice.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“‘Course,” Dean says, putting his laptop on the bedside table. Sam opens the door and stays in the frame with his hands in his pockets. “Come sit,” Dean offers, patting the bed.

“I’m good.” Sam is looking at anything but Dean, which makes him quite uneasy. “I just wanna say I’m sorry, okay? I had a long talk with Sonny and you were right. It wasn’t your place to tell me about all this stuff. If anything, I should be thanking you. If you hadn’t been there, I probably still wouldn’t know about any of this crap.”

“I wanted to tell you so bad, Sam. You have no idea.”

“No, I’m sure you did.” When he finally looks at his brother, Sam’s eyes are red and shiny. “I just don’t know what’s real anymore. Are my parents keeping more stuff from me? Stuff even you wouldn’t know?”

There’s indeed this one thing Sam doesn’t know about, but Dean’s not about to tell him. And he’s pretty sure Castiel isn’t too keen on the idea of telling him either.

Not that there’s much to tell anyway because it could never happen again.

“So… we good?”

A slow smile appears on Dean’s lips as his insides jump for joy. “We’re good, don’t worry about it. I said it before and I’ll say it again: I’ll always be here for you, Sammy. You’re my brother.”

There’s a bit of heat on Sam’s cheeks when he nods, but he doesn’t answer. He only smiles before closing the door, leaving Dean alone.

Dean takes back his computer, not ready to sleep, but not in the mood to hang out with anyone either. He’s browsing through his favorite porn site when he gets an incoming call on Skype. When he sees the caller’s name, he’s tempted to refuse. Still, he answers…


	15. Chapter 15

“Hi, Cas… you found my handle!” Dean says when Castiel’s face appears on his computer. He’s so close to his camera that it almost fills the whole screen.

“Took me a little while, but I did. There’s another Dean W. somewhere in the state that’s a little confused right now though.”

“I see…” Dean, who had been half lying down, sits up and angles the computer screen better. “So, what can I do for you?”

“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess…” The man looks away from the screen and clears his throat. “I—I had a good time tonight. With you, I mean.”

“I did too. If we ignore the drama, of course.”

“Of course.” Castiel looks directly at the screen again. “I guess I wanna say I’m sorry. I can only hope this whole thing isn’t making your relationship with Sam too difficult.”

“It did when he kind of guessed I already knew about Clark,” Dean says, chuckling. “Made me drop him off halfway here, but I called Sonny. He went to pick him up and talked to him.”

“You left him out on the road?”

“He was threatening to roll out of the car, so yeah, I stopped. Like I said, Sonny picked him up and brought him back here. He’s okay. We talked a bit and we’re good.”

“It scares me that he tends to run away all the time. I’m tempted to say that he gets that from his mother, but that’d just be mean.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s got the throat clearing thing from you.”

“Throat clearing thing?”

“You’ve never noticed?” Dean says before erupting in laughter. “It’s like you guys always have something jammed in your throat. You do it a whole lot more than Sam though.”

“I’d think someone would have said something by now.”

“Happens whenever you get emotional. When you’re embarrassed, nervous… and even aroused.”

Eager to prove his point, Dean sends a fiery gaze through the screen as he licks his lips and starts caressing a nipple through his t-shirt. It has the desired effect.

“All right, I get it,” Castiel says after clearing his throat once more. Except he too has fire in his eyes now. “I’d think it’s you who has that effect on me,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. “How messed up is that? I could have been your father, Dean.”

“You’re not! Stop obsessing over something that never happened, okay?”

On the screen, Dean sees Castiel nod, shake his head, then nod again.

“Was Sam telling the truth? About you having a girlfriend?” 

“Nah… I’ve been hanging out with my ex, but we’re just friends. Maybe she’d like us to date again, but I’m not interested. Not anymore.”

“Why is that?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

More blushing. More throat clearing.

“Dean, you know we can never be, right?”

“If that’s the case then why do you keep calling me? Kissing me?”

“Because I’m weak and greedy. If I can still hope for Sam to forgive me about all that I’ve kept from him, I’m convinced he wouldn’t be so accepting of me bedding his brother.”

“So we shouldn’t see each other anymore?”

“Or if we do, Sam has to be there. Or anyone else. We can never be alone.”

Thinking on how they’re kind of alone right now makes all of Dean’s blood and common sense divert south of the border.

“Dean… I’m gonna hang up,” Castiel menaces when he sees Dean flush and nip at his lower lip.

“No, you won’t,” Dean taunts him, his voice low and rough. He spreads his legs to place the laptop between them, angling the screen so Cas would see all the way down to his crotch. He takes his shirt off and unfastens his belt. “Is that better?” he adds, palming his growing bulge through his boxers.

Castiel’s sole answer is a broken moan as he too changes the angle of his camera. His cock is already out of his pants, hard and leaking, the pace of his fist on it fast and rough.

“You’ve been touching yourself this whole time, huh, Cas? 

“No!”

“Liar.”

They don’t say another word as they watch each other get off. Castiel’s the first to come with a guttural sigh, loud in Dean’s earbuds. Dean soon follows, biting his fist so he’ll keep quiet. He takes a second to come back down and when he opens his eyes again, it is to find Cas has ended the call and there’s a message in the chat window.

> _I’m sorry. This won’t happen again_

Although he believes Castiel really means it, Dean also knows that it’ll be easier said than done.

  

The next day, Dean is helping out Ruth prepare lunch when Sam comes in the kitchen, still looking half asleep.

“How you can sleep in with the kids running around and screaming their heads off is beyond me,” Dean says as Sam sits at the table with a cup of coffee, making Ruth tut at him.

“Caffeine’s gonna stop your growth, boy!”

Sam tries to tame his hair, chuckling. “It hasn’t so far!” he answers, making her huff in return.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s drinking coffee otherwise he just may never stop growing,” Dean provides, a gleeful smile on his lips. “And I’d rather have him stop. Not sure I’d like for my younger brother to be taller than me.”

The kids get called for lunch a mere fifteen minutes later. Although he just woke up, Sam still goes for the tomato soup and grilled-cheese sandwiches for his breakfast. With Dean, Sonny, and Ruth sitting down, the table is at full capacity, everyone talking and laughing at once.

Dean is in a grand conversation with Timmy and Jesse – about how boring grammar really is – when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He discreetly checks to see that Castiel sent him a message. He knows Ruth hates for anyone to bring their phone to the table so he gets up and excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

Once there, he checks his phone again, his skin igniting when he reads the message.

> **_From Castiel:_ ** _We need to talk_

Instead of texting him back, Dean hits the call button. He doesn’t have to wait long to hear Castiel’s voice.

“A text would have been fine,” he answers, sounding annoyed.

“I’m hiding in the bathroom so it’ll be quicker just to speak.”

“All right. This thing between us has to stop, Dean.”

“And what do you propose we do about it?”

“It’s not gonna be settled over the course of a two minute phone call, Dean. Can you meet me tonight?”

The ideas that go through Dean’s mind at that moment are the very antithesis of what Castiel might be intending. “Your place?” he asks, his voice a little too rough.

“Dean, no!” Castiel sighs, but there’s no throat clearing this time. “There’s a Biggerson’s on Long Pond Road, in Rochester. It’s a bit far but—”

“I know the place. What time?”

“Was thinking after dinner. Does nine work for you?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you there.”

Dean swiftly hangs up, knowing he’s been in the bathroom for too long already. When he opens the door, he finds Sonny waiting for him with a smirk.

“It’s not like you to take your calls to the bathroom. What’s going on, Dean?”

With a shrug, Dean walks past his mentor. “No calls. I just prefer to have something to do when I drop a log.”

Amused, Sonny glances at the toilet bowl. “Want me to ask Ruth to bake some bran muffins or something?” He claps a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Next time you wanna lie to me, take a second to at least flush.”

As Dean drops his head down and starts to walk away, Sonny follows closely, speaking in a low hush. “I was able to convince Sam that he was wrong about you yesterday. If you keep seeing his dad, there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to help.”

“I know… we’re meeting tonight to just clear the air. In public,” Dean adds, seeing Sonny’s disapproving stare.

“Want me to come with?”

“What? Like a chaperone? I think we can handle ourselves, Sonny.”

“Can you?” Sonny asks, not waiting for an answer as he walks back into the kitchen.

  

Dean is surprised to find the Biggerson’s this packed on a Saturday night. In his own opinion, there should be better things to do. He only ignores the fact that he’s also there because he has a reason to be. A practical reason that comes down to not being on a date nor trying to find one.

He spots Castiel waiting for him in a booth, already sipping on some kind of creamy drink. He goes to sit with him, letting his tall frame fall on the bench.

“You’re here…” Castiel says, keeping his eyes on his glass. “Order whatever you want, my treat,” he adds as the server comes to see Dean.

“Huh… what’s that you’re having?”

“Iced coffee, mocha,” Castiel answers, still with his head down.

“All right, I’ll have that too then.”

The server nods and walks away while Dean keeps looking at Castiel. “Cas? Look at me, would you? This was your idea, not mine. If you can’t—”

Castiel finally look up, a disheartened expression on his face. “I know. It’s just—from the moment I sent you that text earlier, I knew I had made a mistake.”

“So you don’t wanna talk?”

“We have to. We have to establish rules. But mostly, we have to obey said rules.”

Dean can’t help smiling. “You’re the one who keeps reeling me back in, Cas. Not that I’m complaining—”

“See? That’s it! That’s the problem.” Castiel clears his throat and clasps his hands together. “You keep enabling me!”

“What can I say? I’m a horny teenager!”

Castiel’s stare darkens. “A teenager. Exactly!”

“I think we both know by now that my age isn’t the real problem.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s Sam.”

Castiel is looking down again, still squeezing his hands and clearing his throat. He suddenly looks so small that Dean is tempted to go sit on the other side and take him in his arms. His voice is low and soft when he speaks again.

“So what you’re saying is that if it wasn’t for Sam, you’d want something with me?”

“You know I would,” Castiel answers, just as lowly.

“And what if we’re wrong? What if Sam wouldn’t care that much about it all?”

“Are you ready to take that chance?”

Dean shakes his head and while he does, his foot finds Castiel’s under the table. It’s like an electric shock as their eyes lock together.

“He doesn’t have to know,” Dean offers, hesitant. “Or maybe we just need to get it out of our system.”

“Dean—” Castiel starts to say, but the rest of the sentence dies in his throat when Dean starts playing footsies under the table. “It’s too dangerous,” he manages to say between ragged breaths. “And I think I’ve lied to him enough.”

“Dangerous? For you or for me?”

“Both. If Sam ever learned—”

“He won’t.”

And although Castiel is trying very hard to resist, Dean can see in his eyes how turned on he is. “Let’s go back to your place,” he says, licking his lips. “Or even a motel… whatever, I don’t care.”

With his eyes now closed, Castiel shakes his head and sighs. When he opens them again, the hunger in them is overbearing. “No motel,” he says, powering up his phone. Dean can only observe as Cas handles the device.

The older man soon gets up, dropping a twenty dollar bill on the table right as the server brings Dean’s drink.

“Would you like it to go?” the server asks.

“Keep it,” Dean replies as he follows Castiel outside. “Hey, Cas! Wait up!” he says as he runs after Castiel. “Where are you going?”

Castiel doesn’t look at him when he speaks. “Get in!” is all he says as he unlocks the doors and goes to sit behind the wheel. Dean glances at his own car, worried about leaving her behind.

“She’ll be okay, Dean. Now get in before I change my mind,” he hears Castiel say, which is enough to make him move.

Neither of them speak as Castiel rushes through the streets of Rochester. He seems to know where he’s going so Dean just looks outside to keep himself from looking at Cas. Until Cas turns into a basement garage where he parks and turns off the engine.

“This is our last chance, Dean. We can still turn around and forget about this big whole mess.”

Dean gulps, hating the fact that not going through with whatever this is doesn’t register as an option anymore. “I don’t think I could.”

Castiel nods, his jaw tight. “I agree,” he says as he leans to grab a bag from the glove box. He drops it on Dean’s lap and exits the car. Dean is certain of what the drugstore bag holds, but still looks, not surprised to find a box of condoms and a bottle of lube. 

It’s enough to make his blood turn into fire as he follows Castiel to the elevators. They don’t say much on their way to the lobby, Dean staying behind while Castiel walks up to the desk. 

Ten minutes later, they’re back in the elevator, riding up to the last floor. Not a word is uttered until Castiel opens the door to what looks like a loft apartment rather than a simple room.

“You rented this?” Dean says, impressed.

They’ve been so quiet and reserved since leaving the diner that Dean is startled when Castiel grabs him in a hug from behind and speaks in his neck.

“You deserve nice things, Dean. If this was to be for real, I would have brought you home. And you’re too good for cheap motels.”

Shivering, Dean drops his head as Castiel talks and kisses the back of his neck.

“This is for real,” Dean finds the mind to say, burying a hand into Castiel’s hair.

“Real, but ephemeral. Like this place and what we’re about to do.”

It’s too much for Dean who pivots in Castiel’s arms to join their mouths together. Neither of them bother to turn on any more lights as they bump their way to the first soft surface they can find.

The love seat they end up on is indeed soft, although a little cramped. Not that they have the mind to care as Cas seems to be intended on fusing his body to Dean’s. “Too many clothes,” he says under his breath as he sits up between Dean’s legs. “Take it all off.”

Castiel’s commanding tone makes Dean’s mouth go dry. He nods fervently, writhing on the sofa to take off every last piece of clothing. “Your turn,” he says, pleading, as he slowly pushes his jeans and underwear down, only to have them chucked off by Castiel.

Except Castiel seems to have other ideas as he lies back over Dean to kiss him. Their melding of tongues is slow, languorous. It doesn’t take long for Dean to get hard and leak, leaving traces of precome on Castiel’s navy slacks.

“Please, Cas… I need your dick,” Dean says, half mewling, as he thrusts his hips up, trying to get some friction. “Naked, please…”

Castiel’s chuckle ends in a moan when he starts humping Dean’s crotch. He slides his mouth down to suck on a nipple. And when Dean starts unfastening Castiel’s pants to put his hand in his boxers, Cas bites down on the erect nub, making Dean cry out.

“Fuck!”

Getting impatient, Dean starts feeling around for the bag they brought up. He knows he’s dropped it near the couch. “Cas! Prep me! Now,” he says when he finds it, pushing the bag between the both of them. Cas doesn’t take it.

“No!”

“What?”

When Dean sees the lascivious grin on Castiel’s face, his dick twitches. He swallows the lump in his throat, expectant. The other man gets off of Dean to sit back on his heels.

“We’re moving on to the bed. And you’ll be opening yourself for me while I take off my clothes, watching you.”

Again, Dean gives an energetic nod as his sole answer, getting off the couch quite inelegantly. He drops the contents of the bag on the bed, eager to start working on his hole.

“On your back, with your legs up,” Castiel instructs as he turns on the lamp beside the bed. He gives an appreciative nod to Dean when he obeys, then pulls on his tie. “Spread your cheeks,” he orders again, licking his lips. His breath hitches when Dean obeys once more.

“You’ve planned this,” he croaks when he sees Dean’s hole already glistening with lube. “I could almost take you right now, couldn’t I?”

Dean doesn’t answer. Instead, he coats his fingers with the lube and warms it up. He slowly pushes two fingers at once, moaning as he does. “I couldn’t help myself,” he finally says, his darkened eyes like liquid fire all over Castiel’s skin. “You’re just as guilty as I am… you bought that shit.”

“I did,” Castiel admits as he drops his shirt and tie onto the floor. He works on his pants and underwear much faster now. He crawls on the bed, landing between Dean’s legs again. Gently, Cas stops him from pumping his hole, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his own after lubing them up.

“Shit! Yeah!” Dean yelps when he feels Castiel’s tongue join in on the fun. “Fuck! Dude! I’m not gonna last… please!”

Without warning, Castiel adds another finger, making Dean gasp as he massages his prostate expertly. “Please! Fuck me!” Dean cries, gripping the base of his dick because, yeah, he’s right about to blow.

“Don’t you dare come,” Castiel warns before licking a stripe on the underside of Dean’s dick and teasing the slit. His voice is soft yet commanding. He sits back on his heels, folding Dean’s legs back as far as they can go before sliding a pillow under him. Dean pulls a pillow underneath his head and watches as Cas puts on a condom and coats himself with lube.

“Don’t—don’t go too fast?” he says, suddenly worried about what’s about to be thrust inside him. He’s played with his ass before, but his only toy or fingers hadn’t prepared him for Castiel’s meaty girth.

“I will,” Castiel says, bending down to seal his promise with a soft kiss. He takes his time, guiding himself inside Dean who’s having a hard time relaxing.

“Did you ever do this with anyone before?” Castiel murmurs against Dean’s lips who shakes his head. “You want me to stop?” he then asks, making Dean shake his head again.

“I’ll be okay, just need—gotta relax a bit.”

Castiel hums in assent before sitting back on his heels. He lines himself up again, softly stroking Dean’s cock as he tries to push inside. He slides a little more in, but not by much. He lubes up some more then goes back to lie over Dean.

“We don’t have to do this, Dean. You liked my tongue and fingers before, didn’t you?”

Dean’s voice is nothing but a low growl. “I want your dick inside me. I need it!”

“But—”

The next second, Castiel is being flipped on his back with Dean’s knees landing on either side of him. Dean lubes his fingers again and works himself open some more. Once satisfied, he holds the base of Cas’s dick and lines himself up. It takes a couple of tries, but soon, gravity helps Dean welcome Cas inside himself. Once down to the hilt, he lets out a shaky breath, but doesn’t move.

“You okay?” Castiel asks, grounding himself with both hands holding onto Dean’s hips.

Eyes shut, Dean nods, licking his lips as he tentatively rocks his pelvis. “I’m good,” he says as he puts his hands on Castiel’s chest to starts moving up and down. If at first his movements are slow and short, the rhythm soon quickens, until the bed starts shaking under them. 

“Touch me!” 

Dean opens his eyes, dropping a gaze delirious with pleasure on Castiel. He can’t look away when Castiel’s fast paced hand job brings him over the edge in two minutes flat. “Fuck! Cas! Hgn…” he croaks out as his come splatters all over Castiel’s chest, mixing with the beads of sweat. The man looks fucking delicious.

His whole body aflame, Dean keeps moving and clenching, hoping to make Cas come as hard as he did him. Except he doesn’t get to see much when Cas comes. Instead, he gets a mouthful of tongue and his spent dick gets trapped between them when Cas sits up to crush their bodies together. The pulsing of Cas’s dick in his ass is almost enough to make him hard again.

“You’re extraordinary,” Castiel says into Dean’s ear, breathless. “So good… so beautiful…”

He tilts his hips softly as he rides his orgasm, sucking on Dean’s tongue. To Dean’s utter delight, Cas doesn’t let him move very far after they separate, draping a possessive arm around his waist as he settles behind him. Dean hears him taking off the condom, but he doesn’t really care to know where it ends up. 

All he cares about is that the warm body against his doesn’t go away, Castiel instead murmuring praises in his ear and dropping chaste kisses anywhere he can reach. And although he knows this is a one time thing, Dean kind of regrets that he won’t be spending the rest of his days in this man’s arms. That’s just how good it feels.

And as he slowly drifts to sleep, he gobbles up every little bit of praise and soothing touch, like water for a man dying of thirst.


	16. Chapter 16

It’s still dark, save for the dimmed lamp on the bedside table, when Dean wakes up. Castiel’s warmth at his back is enough to make his dick stir awake too. He’d love to keep being cuddled by the older man, but he also very much needs to pee.

He’s careful as he slides out of bed, mostly scared that if Cas were to wake up, he’d decide it’s time to leave. And Dean doesn’t want to leave, not now. So he makes sure he’s as noiseless as possible, not even taking the chance to flush. Same thing when he moistens a washcloth, barely turning on the tap to do so.

After a quick job of wiping off the dried come off his ass and body, he walks back into the room to find Castiel awake, leaning against the headboard.

“Hello, Dean,” the man says, his voice rough with sleep.

Dean gulps, convinced this has to be the beginning of the end. He doesn’t answer and instead goes back in the bathroom to rinse the washcloth again. It gives him a second to compose himself, plastering a smile onto his face when he comes back.

“Hey, Cas,” he says as he goes to sit on the bed. Without another word, he starts wiping Castiel’s chest and crotch. Once he’s done, he drops the cloth on the side table.

“Thanks,” Castiel says, holding Dean’s chin to pull his face toward him. There are stars in his eyes when he gives Dean a soft kiss. “I don’t think your idea worked at all,” he murmurs against Dean’s lips. “I want you more than ever now.”

His heart racing, Dean gulps and nods. “I know. Same here.”

“Deep down, I think I knew this would happen.” Castiel’s voice is shaky, like the hands he intertwines with Dean’s. “I shouldn’t have moved here.”

“You wanna know what I think?” Castiel looks up at Dean and nods, looking almost reverent. “I think you should let yourself have what you want for once in your life. Sam told me he’s never met anyone you might have dated. Why is that?”

“I didn’t date. Not really.”

“So what? I’m your first fuck since the divorce?”

Dean’s words seem to bristle Castiel a bit as he shudders and evades the younger man’s stare. “Of course not, but that’s all they were. Clinical, non-emotional encounters. I couldn’t bring someone into Sam’s life only to have them leave him again.”

Taking back his hands, Dean brings them up to hold Castiel’s face, forcing him to look at him in the eye. With his thumbs caressing the man’s stubbled jaw, he kisses him, delicately.

“I kinda liked you instantly, you know?” Dean says, losing himself in Castiel’s blue gaze. “Thought you were hot actually, but I knew it’d be a bad idea. I knew that because of Sam, I could never want you.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Pretty sure you can feel it too. How it’s like fireworks when we’re in the same room.”

Castiel sighs and drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder. “That’s all I can feel when you’re near me. I can almost hear the electricity crackle around you. Even right now,” he says before grabbing the back of Dean’s neck and crashing their mouths together.

And although they’re both hungry for it, they take their time exploring each other this time. They don’t need to say it, how they both feel like it really is the last time they can indulge in their passion for one another. Their kisses are languid, deep and slow, and their caresses are strong, bruising.

As if choreographed, they fall into an intimate dance, Castiel opening Dean up as he had done before. He works his fingers and tongue inside his lover, agonizingly slow, making Dean almost weep he’s so aroused.

Lying on his back when Castiel pushes into him feels like heaven. Neither of them can look away as Castiel rocks his hips, Dean’s dick caught between their abdomens.

“Faster,” Dean soon pleads before grabbing at Castiel’s face to kiss him. “Like you mean it,” he adds, moving his own hips to meet Castiel’s thrusts. It’s hot, and it’s fast, and it almost hurts it’s so good. 

“I’m—fuck—Cas!”

Castiel’s own orgasm follows a second later, his hips stuttering into Dean’s clenching hole. “Oh God! Dean! Aaah…” he cries before his body crashes down on Dean’s, unable to support himself anymore.

Although out of breath, they kiss deeply, gasping in each other’s mouth. They don’t move for a while, letting their sweaty bodies cool off and their hearts decelerate.

“Nope… still want more,” Dean mumbles into Castiel’s chest, making them both laugh.

“Indeed… very bad plan.” Castiel clears his throat. “Sonny must be wondering where you are.”

Dean knows Castiel is right, but he chooses to keep it to himself. “He’s not my guardian anymore. I don’t think he cares.”

“As a parent myself, believe me when I say that he most certainly does.”

  

There’s a sense of urgency when Castiel wakes Dean up in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Dean. We have to go,” he says as he’s putting his clothes back on. “Took a quick shower already, you should probably do the same.”

Dean wipes the crust from his eyes and yawns. “What time’s it?”

“Ten fifteen. Check-out is at eleven. We gotta move, Dean.”

“All right, all right, I’m movin’…”

As he goes into the bathroom, Dean grabs the clothes that Cas had folded and piled on the loveseat. It makes him smile, remembering how he had done the same thing in Pontiac after they had been together. Before they had that fight…

He shakes his head, not wanting to think about that crap. They just had a great night together and there’s no way he’s letting anything ruin that. With the images from the night before still vivid in his mind, he indulges in some reminiscing, getting himself off under the hot spray. And if he’s noisy as he does so, then that concerns him and him alone.

Dean soon comes back out, clean and clothed. “You had fun in there?” Castiel asks with a stern look, but he doesn’t answer and goes to stand near the door, ready to go.

“Don’t forget your phone,” Castiel says, pointing at the breakfast table. “I think you got a text while in the shower. Probably Sonny looking for you.”

“Possible,” Dean agrees as he grabs his phone and starts it up. There are a couple of missed calls and texts, from Sonny and Sam too.

Castiel doesn’t say a word when he leaves the room, holding the door for Dean who’s engrossed in his electronic device as he follows. He reads the messages while they ride the elevator down to the lobby.

> **_From Sonny:_ ** _It’s getting pretty late. Let me know if you’re coming back at all._
> 
> **_From Sonny:_ ** _I hope everything is alright. At least let me know you’re alive_
> 
> _**_From Sam:_ ** _Don’t know when you’ll be back but I’d like to go to my dad’s. Can you drive me?__
> 
> **_From Sonny:_ ** _Better find yourself an alibi. Just dropped Sam at his dad’s and he’s not home either. If you’re together, better have a story ready._

“Shit!” Dean says. He looks up at Castiel whose expression is closed off. “Sonny says that we should find something to say, about where we were. Sam’s at your place and he knows you’re not there. He knows I haven’t been home either.”

“What time did they get there? Do you know?”

“No clue… whenever you heard the phone beep last, I guess!”

The elevator doors slide open and Castiel walks out, not waiting for Dean who sits in one of the lobby’s armchairs. As he waits, he takes the time to text Sonny back.

> **_To Sonny:_ ** _Sorry! Just woke up. Thanks for the heads up, will be home soon_
> 
> **_From Sonny:_ ** _We’ll talk at home_

Dean blushes again, knowing what kind of talk they’ll be having. He knows Sonny doesn’t have a care in the world that Dean plays for both teams. Even himself, to his own admission, had done a bit of experimenting back in the days. What he cares about are the kids he’s entrusted to care for. And there’s no way he’ll jeopardize his relationship with Sam to cover for them.

“Ready?” Castiel’s voice startles Dean who looks up and nods. For a second, the other man seems intrigued by the sheepish look on Dean’s face, but he doesn’t ask and walks back to the elevators.

It’s not before they’re sitting in the car that Castiel seems to relax a bit. “I’m sorry that I had to rush you like this. I honestly had imagined the morning to be quite different.”

“You did?”

“Of course. Why do you think I asked for the suite?” He turns to Dean, a sad smile on his face. “I wanted to have breakfast with you.” He takes a deep breath as his pupils widen. “I wanted to feed you pancakes. Wanted to lick the syrup and butter from your mouth and fingers. When you eat, you’re so deliciously… obscene.”

With his fists clenched on the leather seats, Dean lets out a shaky breath. “Cas… you saying these things, it makes me hard as shit.”

Castiel’s eyes drop to Dean’s bulge. “I know,” he says before putting a hand on it and squeezing gently. “Will you let me get you off before I drive you back to your car?”

Dean doesn’t answer and finds the lever to lower the backrest. “Please,” is all he can muster, shaking with anticipation.

Castiel stays upright, keeping an eye on their surroundings as he works his hand over Dean’s clothed dick. He sometimes glances at Dean’s face, but doesn’t stay there for long, looking around to make sure they won’t get caught.

Dean is grasping at Castiel’s arm, digging his nails in the man’s skin while his toes curl in his boots. “I—Cas—take it out! I’m gonna—”. Neither have time to move and Dean comes in his pants like the teenager he still is.

Without a single warning, Castiel dips down to lick and nip at the damp spot. He comes back up and goes for Dean’s mouth, sliding his tongue between the seam of his lips. When he lets him go, Dean notices the mist in Castiel’s eyes.

“That’s the end of it,” he says before starting the car, his features impassive again. 

They make their way back to the Biggerson’s in record time, making Dean think that Castiel can’t wait to just be done with him. He knows it’s probably the best strategy, but it still makes Dean feel a whole lot shitty.

“What now?” he asks when Castiel parks next to the Impala. “If Sam invites me over again, I find reasons to refuse?”

Castiel sighs, drumming his fingers on the wheel as if Dean is testing his patience. “You do what you think is best, Dean. All I know is that we can’t ever be alone together again.” He turns to Dean, failing to look him in the eye. “I love my son with all my heart. Losing him is not an option for me so if I have to choose… I’m sorry, I really am.”

Dean nods, understanding how Sam would be Castiel’s first choice. He’s Dean’s first choice too. “I’m sorry too, I get it. It just sucks that this feels like it’ll never be enough,” he says as he opens the door and steps out.

Castiel doesn’t answer and drives away, making his tires screech as if the devil himself is on his tail.

  

“Where’s everyone?” Dean asks when he spots Sonny alone in the kitchen, the house unnaturally silent.

“Pastor Jim invited the boys for lunch, they’ve gone with Ruth and Jack. He’s gonna let them pet the goats and rabbits.”

“You know it’s just an excuse to fill the kids’ heads with his Jesus crap, right?”

Sonny doesn’t answer as he gives a chair a rough push with his foot. “Sit!”

Dean obeys, knowing they might as well rip the bandage off. “Look, Sonny—”

“Shut up! You know I don’t care what you do or who you do it with,” he says, his eyes boring into Dean’s skull. “Except in that very case. I thought you were just going to meet. In public. To clear the air, as you said.”

“That’s what we—”

“So what now? Are you guys together? Am I gonna have to keep an extra eye on Sam because he just might topple over when he learns about you two? Because my job isn’t difficult enough?”

“No, we’re done, Sonny. Whatever happened is never gonna happen again.”

The chuckle Sonny lets out sounds bitter. “Looks like it keeps never happening again with the two of you. I thought you were more intelligent than that, Dean.”

And even though he knows Sonny is right, Dean still feels the need to defend his and Castiel’s actions. “What if it was more than that, huh?” he spits out, making the older man raise a single brow. “What if we found the one person we could love for the rest of our lives?”

“Did you?”

Dean shrugs, not wanting to say that he did, but not ready to say to the contrary either. “I don’t know. I kinda felt like it last night… for me anyway.”

“You’re still young, Dean. You have plenty of time to meet your one and only, if such a thing exists.”

“I know that. But when I’m with him—I can’t explain it, and he can’t either. We still wanna put Sam’s interests before our own, that much I know.”

“And Sam’s interests are…?”

“It’s not that his dad and brother bump uglies, this I’m sure of.”

Sonny’s expression softens and he nods. “You’re probably right about that. And one day, Sam’s gonna be an adult and be on his own. It’ll be easier to avoid his dad.”

“Yeah… someday.”

The air is less tense now and Dean gets up to grab himself a soda. He hasn’t sat back down when Sonny speaks again. “You know, maybe if you found someone to date it’d be easier to forget about this guy.”

Dean almost chokes on his drink. “Who the hell do you want me to date?”

“I don’t know. Robin looks pretty much into you still.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that she’d want us to get together again.”

“Do you even like girls anymore?”

“Yeah, it’s not that she’s a girl. I really like her, she’s a cool chick and all, but I can’t give her what she wants. I’d only be leading her on.”

“You loved her before, didn’t you?”

Dean shrugs as he paces back and forth. “I moved on, Sonny. I can’t see myself with her in the long run.”

“There’s nobody at work that—”

“Just let it go, all right? I won’t see Cas again, but you gotta give me some time to just digest it, all right?” he says before walking out to reach his room. This whole day is turning to shit and all he wants to do is go back to sleep.

And if he’s quietly sobbing into his pillow when he finally does, it’s nobody’s business but his.

  

“I think my dad has a girlfriend.”

Dean impresses himself in being able to keep a straight face at Sam’s announcement. They’re in the living room later that night, watching _The Walking Dead_. Sonny glances at them, but Dean ignores him.

“You think?”

“Something’s fishy with him. We spent the day together, mostly talking about my mom, but I’ve never seen him so distracted. He came back saying he’s been out to do the groceries, but he’s never gotten up early to go to the store. And he hates going for groceries too.”

“So you forgave him?” Dean asks, hoping to divert the conversation away from Castiel’s whereabouts.

“He’s my dad. I guess I have to, to some extent. I’m still pissed at him, and I’m even more pissed at Clark,” Sam says, his lips curling in a disgusted pout around his mother’s new name.

“You gonna see him again?”

“I don’t know. Kinda don’t feel like talking about him, if you don’t mind.”

Turning back his attention to the show, Dean prays Sam won’t want to talk about his dad again. Except he’s rarely lucky enough to get what he really wants.

“But get this,” Sam continues, a little too excited. “He was wearing his suit and tie. Who wears a suit and tie to go to the store on a Sunday morning?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it felt like a suit and tie morning?” Dean says in a stammer, trying to ignore both Sonny’s huff and the – oh so delicious – images of Cas not wearing a single thing.

“Nah, I’m telling you. He went on a date and got lucky, I’m sure of it.”

“Boys, the zombies are back on,” Sonny says, giving a thankful Dean an excuse to turn back to the TV. Except Sam doesn’t seem to be done talking as he leans to talk directly into Dean’s ear. “I tried to confront him about it and he was real sketchy too. Like, all guilty and such. Do you think it’s someone from the university?”

“Sam, I’m trying to watch the show,” Dean says, a little too short-tempered. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” he struggles to say, pointing at the TV.

“No, that’s fine, I get it. I’m sorry,” the teenager spits as he gets up to walk out of the room.

“Sam!” he calls, half eager to run after his brother. He turns to Sonny who’s looking at him with that I-told-you-so face he gets sometimes.

“Fine!” Dean says to the room as he gets up to follow his brother. 

He raps his knuckles on the older boys’ dorm room. “Sam?” he calls, pretty sure the others aren’t asleep just yet.”

“Go away!”

Not about to let this go, Dean opens the door. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Let’s talk, all right? Let’s just do that in my room.”

“You can talk here, I don’t mind,” they hear Max say from under the covers.

It doesn’t take more than that for Sam to agree, even though he’s a little salty about it. “You sure you wouldn’t rather watch your show than talk to me?”

“I can watch TV whenever, Sam. I just didn’t want Sonny to get pissed at us,” he replies, only a little ashamed about throwing Sonny under the bus.

Once in Dean’s room, they sit on the bed and Sam gets excited again. “So, like I was saying… my dad doesn’t do groceries. And when he does, he doesn’t wear his suit and tie. I’m sure he went on a date. And he scored. Big time!”

“Thinking about your dad getting some and being this happy about it… gotta say, it’s kinda weird, Sammy.”

The teenager ignores him and keeps babbling. “I grew up without a mother. What if my dad falls in love and gets married again? I’d have a mom, Dean. I bet she’d be real pretty too.”

_And what if you were to get yet another father_ , Dean thinks to himself, but he can’t find the will to say it out loud. “I think mothers are overrated,” he chooses to say instead, immediately regretting it. “What I mean is—”

“No, I get it. It’s not like you had one either. Well, you do remember our mom, but you haven’t had one since then, did you?”

“Not really, no. Had a couple of foster moms that were nice enough, but nothing that stuck. The only real parent I’ve ever had is Sonny.”

And for some reason, it makes Sam start laughing.

“What?”

“Nothing! I was just thinking how it’d be funny if my dad and Sonny got married and we’d get to be like real brothers. Legally, I mean,” he explains before cackling again.

Except Dean can’t find anything funny about that. Especially not now that he’s stuck with images of Sonny cozying up to Castiel. He may even gag a little. “Sonny hasn’t adopted me,” is all he can think to say, not wanting to dwell on every other reasons why that idea is a bad one. “Plus, you’re my brother for real, I don’t care that we don’t have the paperwork to prove it.”

“You know that we could, right? What if my dad adopted you? That’d be cool, right? We’d even have the same last name.”

His stomach folds again at that new idea. “Sam, I like my name, it’s our dad’s name. Plus, I’m an adult now, I don’t get to be adopted. That ship has sailed.”

“No, it hasn’t. I’ve been reading a lot about adoption since my dad told me and it’s possible. Not in all states I think, but who cares. You still have a chance of having a family. Want me to ask him?”

“Jeez, no, Sam! Don’t ask your dad to adopt me.” The panic in Dean’s tone is enough to make Sam squint at him – another thing he no doubt got from his father. “I mean, it’d be great and all, but if I had to be adopted by someone, I think it should be Sonny.”

“Maybe. Then I guess they’ll have to get married after Sonny’s adopted you,” Sam says before laughing some more, falling back onto the bed.

“Why is that so funny?” Dean hears himself ask even though he doesn’t really want to.

Sam prompts himself up on his elbows to look at Dean with a disgusted pout. “Can you imagine Sonny and my dad kissing? That’s just so… wrong.”

There’s that little voice in the back of Dean’s mind begging him to let it go, but he can’t. “So what you’re saying is that guys kissing is disgusting?”

“What? No, I don’t care about that. But those two? Nasty!” Suddenly, Sam is serious again. “I think my dad may be into men a little. He would have stayed with my mom, even as a guy.”

“Is that what he told you?” Dean asks, only half relieved.

“Kinda. He says he could have kept on loving her, but she didn’t want him. She didn’t want us.”

“Maybe you should talk to your mom about it all. Well… Clark, I mean.”

“No way. She abandoned me and I don’t wanna have anything to do with her. Or him, whatever! Now, let’s try to find out who my future stepmom could be.”


	17. Chapter 17

The morning has been a slow one at Hawkins Auto Shop. It leaves Dean alone with his thoughts as he cleans and greases the tools while Gordon mans the front desk. He’s concentrating enough not to notice what kind of car drives into the first dock. Which explains why he’s so surprised to see Castiel step out of it after turning the engine off.

“Cas? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks as he walks up to him.

“Oil change, mainly,” Castiel says, holding out his car keys which Dean ignores.

“No, I get that, but why here? Don’t you have somewhere to do this in Hilton?”

“I have a hard time trusting mechanics so I thought I might as well come see the one I know won’t be screwing me over.” Castiel’s mouth quirks up, but only for a fraction of a second.

Except Dean is far from amused. “What the fuck are you playing at, Cas?” he says in a hiss, his body urging him to get closer. “Isn’t it hard enough as it is?”

Dean exhales in relief when Castiel takes a couple of steps back. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“You still got a phone, don’t you?”

“Of course, but even phonecalls can get quite… intimate. I need to talk to you in a public setting.”

Castiel throws his keys at Dean who catches them easily, not even looking away from him.

“Go ahead, say what you came to say.”

“Not here, Dean. You’ll be having lunch, won’t you? Let me buy you lunch.”

“I’m getting a half hour at noon. They sell good enough hot-dogs a couple of doors down this way.”

“See you there in fifteen minutes, then.”

Except it’s twenty-five minutes later that Dean walks in the little diner. “Sorry, lost track of time,” is all he says as he sits with Castiel. “Same as usual, Rudy!” he calls out to the old man behind the counter. He barely glances at Castiel before revising the order so Cas would get the same.

“What am I having?”

“The classic hot dogs and fries.”

Castiel lets out an exasperated breath. “Dean! Look at me!”

“What the hell for?”

“Because I feel shitty enough to have shown up at your place of work.”

It’s enough to make Dean look up. “Then why did you?”

“Told you, I have stuff to tell you. About the upcoming Holidays.”

“What about ‘em?

Rudy comes to drop their food at that very moment. Dean nods his thanks and grabs the bottle of ketchup. He shakes and hits it, intended on drowning the fries in the tomato sauce. “Go on!” he says again before plopping a potato in his mouth and sucking the ketchup from his fingers.

He’s not surprised to hear Castiel clear his throat. “Yes. So, I’ve asked Sam to spend Thanksgiving at home with me, as you might already know. But he insists that we all have Thanksgiving dinner together.”

“The three of us?”

“Well, more like us three along with Clark and his wife.”

“Clark? And that’s Sam’s idea?”

“I know, right? That kid just amazes me.”

The hot dogs on Dean’s plate aren’t so appetizing anymore for some reason. “Look, I appreciate you inviting me, but my Thanksgiving’s at Sonny’s. Can’t let him or the kids down.”

“No, of course, I know this. Sam wants to be there too so we’re having dinner Friday instead. Can I count on you?”

“Cas—”

“Dean, please. As far as Sam knows, there’s no reason good enough for you to refuse.”

“My friend Charlie will be in town. I can’t bring her along, can I?”

“Of course you can. We’ll be more than glad to have her with us.”

  

The following Wednesday, a yellow Gremlin rides up Sonny’s driveway, parking next to the Impala.

“What’s up, bitches?” Charlie hollers as she gets out. She laughs as Dean picks her up in his arms.

“God, I’ve missed you!” Dean says into her neck as he hugs her, twirling her around.

“I’ve missed you too, you big lug. Now put me down!”

Dean obeys, but not without kissing the top of her head as he does. He grabs the handle of her luggage and pulls it behind him, leading the way back to the house.

“Damn! I’ve seen pictures, but… wow! Your car looks awesome, Dean.” Charlie’s praise for his baby make Dean’s heart flutter. “So, did you christen it yet?”

“Is that you offering, Bradbury?”

“Ew! Of course not. Just curious is all. With you sneaking around with Castiel and—oh, do I get to meet him? I haven’t even seen a picture, but I’m sure he’s dreamy. I definitely have to meet him.”

Blatantly ignoring Dean scowling at her, Charlie keeps on babbling in a hushed voice, talking about all the stuff Dean would prefer not be voiced at all. Up until he’s had enough.

“Charlie! You gotta shut up about that crap, all right?” he says, trying to keep his voice low. “Sam can’t know Cas and I have been… you know! Not ever!”

“Oh, relax! I wouldn’t out you. I’d still like to meet the guy, though.”

Dean harrumphs, understanding his friend has been giving him a hard time just to fuck with him. Because that’s what siblings – even fake ones – do, don’t they? “Yeah, about that. You’re invited to his Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I thought we were having it at Sonny’s?”

“That’s still happening tomorrow. To accommodate everyone, Cas is throwing his own dinner on Friday.”

“Twice the turkey, huh? Sign me up!”

“Yup… twice the turkey, but more importantly, twice the pie. You wanna help me bake some? A couple for tomorrow night and then some more for Castiel.”

“Do you even know me at all, Winchester? I don’t bake. You can go right ahead and put my name on the card though,” she says with a wink. At the same moment, Sam comes into the living room, making her kind of squeal.

“That’s your brother? So much prettier in person. And much taller too,” Charlie says as she appraises Sam. She seems to hesitate, but not for long, soon jumping up to swing her arms around the teenager’s neck. “Dean’s told me so much about you.”

“And him about you. So, I hear that it’s thanks to you that he found me?”

Dean almost laughs when he sees Charlie’s eyes bug out and her jaw slack. She turns to her friend, but before she can say a word, Sam puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“It’s fine, Charlie, I’m glad you did. And nobody else is ever gonna know.”

“I know,” Sonny supplies when he walks into the living room to greet their guest. “I won’t be telling anyone either,” he reassures the redhead as he offers her his right hand. “I’m Sonny. Pleased to finally meet you, Charlie.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“Only because Sam’s gonna be staying at his dad’s and Dean’s gonna take his bed. Means you get your own room.”

Partly offended, Dean tries to reason with his mentor again. “I told you, Sonny. Charlie’s gay and it’s not at all like that between us. She’s like my little sister so sharing a room would have been anything but sexy.”

“Rules are rules, Dean. There can’t be girls spending the night in any of the boys’ rooms.”

Charlie observes the debate with a crooked smile. “You know those boys could be doing stuff together, right? They don’t always need to have a girl around.”

For a second, Sonny almost looks as if the idea had never even crossed his mind. “Well… no, I know that, but—”

“I’m only messing with you, Sonny! Well, it still could happen, but I’m sure you’re doing whatever needs to be done,” Charlie says before coming in to hug Sonny. He’s a little rattled when she lets him go.

“You’re right, Dean. She’s a real firecracker,” he says in a gruff voice before going back to where he came from, making the other three laugh.

“I love this guy,” Charlie gushes. “The ‘stache alone, dude! How are you not in love with him?” she asks Dean who coughs and glances at Sam who starts laughing.

“Ew! Could you imagine that? He’s super old,” Sam says between fits of laughter. He doesn’t seem to notice the warning gaze Dean is sending Charlie, which is a blessing. “So, when do we drive to my dad’s?” he then asks, looking weirdly excited.

“Whenever you’re ready to go, Sammy.”

“My dad wants to call for pizza so… not too late?” Sam turns to Charlie, beaming. “I love Ruth’s chicken pot pie, but I haven’t had pizza for ever. You’ll see, she makes the best chicken pot pie in the state, if not in the whole country. In the world even!”

“Can’t wait for dinner then.” Charlie turns to Dean and takes back her luggage. “Tell me, Winchester. Where is it that I lay my head? I’d like to take a shower, I smell like I’ve spent two days in a smelly bus. I’d rather be clean when we go drop Sam off to his dad’s,” she adds with a discreet wink.

“My room’s awesome, you’ll see,” Dean says, ignoring her mocking him as he leads the way toward the back of the house. He knows his room is kinda small, but he does take pride in how tidy it always is. Then again, he doesn’t own much stuff so it’d be kind of hard to make a mess.

“You didn’t strike me as a neat freak, Dean. I’m kind of impressed,” Charlie says when she enters the room. “Did you clean up just for me?”

“It’s pretty much always like this,” Dean admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hate clutter.”

“I’ll try to respect that, then. You should see my place… not that it’s dirty or anything, but, man, sometimes I wonder if I’m not on my way to becoming a hoarder. So much stuff everywhere…” She drops her luggage on the bed and opens it to take what looks like a shower kit and clean clothes. “So… bathroom?”

Dean leads the way again, stopping by the linen closet to grab a fresh towel and washcloth. He points to the door next to it. “Just make sure you bring your towel back with you, all right? You can drop the washcloth in the hamper, but Ruth’s gonna go ballistic if she sees a clean towel in there.”

Charlie nods and enters the bathroom to drop everything on the toilet seat. “Thank you, Dean. For this, and for inviting me here. I really needed it.”

“I know. You’ll see, in two days time you won’t remember a single thing about what’s-her-name.”

  

That promise seems to come even sooner than anticipated when Dean brings Charlie to Cus’s Place – neither of them felt like chicken pot pie – after dropping off Sam at his dad’s. They hadn’t gotten out of the car, Charlie only getting a glimpse of the man when he opened the door for Sam.

“He looks very handsome,” she had said, embarrassing Dean in the process. “Even I can see why you’d be into that.”

To Dean’s utter relief, that’s all Charlie said about it. Once at the diner, Castiel seems to be forgotten when the redhead starts gushing over Robin.

“You dated her? That goddess among goddesses wants you back and you won’t even consider it? Winchester, sometimes I just don’t get you.”

Dean can only shrug because yeah, Robin does want him back. But he really has his mind set elsewhere.

“So, on a scale of one to a hundred, how pissed would you be to see me flirt with your ex?” Charlie asks after Robin has come to take their order.

“Well… not that I think you got a chance in hell, but I’ll say one. Just because I’d love to see you try.”

“Oh, Dean, you have no faith in my powers, do you?”

“I think I’d know if Robin had a thing for girls.”

Charlie tilts her head, the smile on her face almost maniacal. “Really? And does she know how you have a thing for boys?”

His friend’s argument makes Dean stop and think for a second. “I don’t think so,” he has to admit.

“So let me ask you again: Can I try and sweep your ex off her feet without you going crazy over it?”

Worrying at his bottom lip, Dean really takes a moment to wonder. “Yup, would still love to see this happen. You go right ahead, kiddo! I’ll be right here enjoying the show when she turns you down.”

“You asked for it! Prepare to see your ex forget you ever existed. And by the way, Winchester, I’m older than you so if anyone’s calling anyone kiddo, it’ll be me.”

Dean huffs, playing with his paper napkin. “You don’t even have two years on me, Bradbury. And I’m taller so—”

“Two Cus’s Special Burgers,” Robin says as she comes to drop off their plates. “Would you like anything else?”

Dean chuckles when he sees Charlie’s demeanor do a one-eighty. She looks up at Robin and offers her a soft smile as she drags a finger softly over the table top. “I know what I’d like, but I don’t think it’s on the menu. You think you can help me with that?”

Seeing Robin’s face going crimson red in an instant is almost enough to make Dean choke on his own saliva. He knows her and if the coy smile on her lips is anything to go by, she’s very much pleased by Charlie’s interest.

Robin’s voice is soft when she answers. “Depends. What—what is it you’d like?”

Charlie smirks, obviously delighted by the outcome. She gently turns Robin’s hand to let her fingers wander on her palm. “I think I’d like to take you on a date. If you’re into that sort of thing, of course.”

The color on Robin’s cheek doesn’t falter as she glances at Dean, looking a little sheepish. It kind of feels like she’s asking him permission.

“I think you should,” he says with a gentle smile. “I don’t mind, I swear.”

It’s enough for Robin to grab her notepad to scribble on it. She tears off the page and gives it to Charlie. “Call me? Like… I’m free Friday night?”

“Oh—I’m not—I’m having dinner at—”

“But you’re free after dinner, aren’t you?” Dean says, not thinking twice about why he’s so eager to see his two friends get together.

“Indeed, that I am,” Charlie says. “Maybe we could go see a late night movie?”

Still flushed, Robin nods. “Call me,” she says before fleeing the dining room.

“Girl, you got major skills,” Dean says when they’re alone once more, very much impressed. “But… you’re not gonna lead her on, right? Because you’re leaving Sunday morning and—”

“I’m not an ass, Dean. I intend to disclose it all before we’re even in the movie theatre.” She sighs, adding salt to her fries without even tasting them. “I’m not ready to be serious about anyone. Not yet. And if this date turns out to be two gal pals having a fun time, then that’ll be it.”

Their own dinner date – sorta – is animated, both of them having a whole lot to say even though they speak quite regularly. He listens intently when she tells him all about her break-up, as does she when he tells her about that last time he and Cas were together. And how, so far, they had been able to respect their promise to keep their distance. Save for Cas showing up at the garage, that is.

“I still think it’d be easier if you went away at college, Dean. You’re shaking just talking about the guy.”

“I know.”

“And you think having dinner at his place Friday is a good idea?”

“We won’t be alone, Charlie. You’ll be there, Sam’ll be there. And with Clark and his wife there too, I’m pretty sure the tension won’t be on Cas and me.”

“Ah yeah? And how do you feel when there’s booze around? Can you really ignore it or does it still make you miserable?”

Dean scowls at her although he knows she’s right. “I don’t pay you to go all logical on me, Bradbury.”

“You don’t pay me at all, Winchester. All this knowledge is yours for free.”

Still, Charlie nods and grabs Dean’s hand in hers. “I’ll help you through this, all right? I’ll be your buffer. It’ll be like you’re not even in the same city,” she promises, making Dean chuckle.

  

Dean and Charlie are the last ones to arrive at Castiel’s Friday evening. Charlie had wanted to drive her own car, arguing that she’d have to leave shortly after dinner to make it to her date with Robin. Still, as the great friend she is, she had agreed to ride with Dean who thought it’d be the greatest excuse not to overstay his welcome.

“You look awfully nice for a guy who shouldn’t have anyone to impress,” she mutters as they wait for someone to answer the door. “I at least have a reason to look dazzling.”

“Sam says they always dress nice on Thanksgiving. I’m just being respectful.”

“Uh-huh,” is all she has the time to say before Sam opens the door and welcomes them in.

He surprises Dean with a strong and lingering hug. “Thank God you’re here,” he says in his ear. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d think that his brother was right about to cry.

“Is it so bad?” he asks, concerned.

Sam lets him go, but keeps a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it. “Nah, it’s real nice actually. You’re the missing link.” He turns to Charlie, a guilt-ridden look on his face. “You too, Charlie, I’m glad that you’re here. It’s just—”

“I get it, Sam. Don’t worry about it,” she says as she comforts him with a hug. “And I won’t impose on your family reunion for too long.”

“She’s got a date later. With Robin,” Dean says. Sam’s surprise is enough to make the three of them laugh.

“I can totally see that happening. Charlie’s way prettier than you!” Sam says, teasing. “Now, gimme your coats. Everyone’s in the living room.”

The atmosphere in the living room is weirdly light and airy. Everybody’s looking nice, but not as stuffy as Dean had feared. On the sofa, sitting between Castiel and Clark, he spots a petite blonde with big blue eyes. It has to be Rachel, Clark’s wife.

“Hi, guys,” Dean says, his hand a little too tight on Charlie’s who lets out a small squeak. “Sorry,” he mumbles, loosening his hold a bit.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says, keeping his eyes on the redhead. “And this is your friend Charlie, I presume?”

Dean gulps and nods. Luckily, Charlie takes over and walks to their host. “That’s me. And you must be Castiel?” she says, dipping down to hug the man. She doesn’t linger there for long, turning to the other guests. “And you guys must be Rachel and Clark, am I right?”

They both nod and offer her their hands to shake. For a second, Dean is worried that Charlie’s going to ignore them in favor of a hug, but she doesn’t, giving them each an energetic handshake. With Dean still standing further away, Clark get ups and pulls on his wife to go and greet him.

“Rachel, this is Sam’s brother… Dean.”

Both are looking a bit gloomy as they offer their hands to shake again. There’s no way Dean’s gonna let the night become some kind of overly emotional crapfest. So he laughs, although it’s a bit forced. “Yup, that’s me. The better looking one,” he says, winking at Rachel.

Clark immediately picks it up and wags a warning finger at Dean, his tone falsely stern. “Now you leave that beautiful creature alone, young man. She’s taken!” He softens the bogus reprimand with a soft clap to Dean’s shoulder.

“Indeed, I am. Sorry, Dean,” the blonde says with a smile before kissing her husband’s cheek. “And he’s the love of my life.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… everybody loves everybody! I’m hungry,” Sam says as he comes back in the room.

“You’re always hungry,” Castiel and Dean say at the same time, making the room laugh except for the two of them. Averting Dean’s eyes, Castiel looks at his watch. “I wasn’t sure when everyone would be here so there’s a bit of time still to go for the turkey to be ready.”

“You cooked?” Clark asks, unable to hide his surprise.

“Of course not. Bought a pre-cooked turkey. Pretty much everything is premade actually. I just have to reheat everything. We should be ready to eat in about half an hour.”

“You need help?” Dean asks, only because he’s usually the one to help at Sonny’s. He immediately regrets it and it must show on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, Dean,” Castiel says, finally looking at him. “You’re my guest. Plus, I’m told that you made pies?”

Dean slaps his forehead. “Shit! Forgot them in the car,” Dean admits. “I’ll go get them.”

“Want me to get your coat?”

“No need, Sammy. I’ll only be out for a minute.”

He runs out and grabs the pies from the backseat of the Impala. He’s kind of disappointed not to have forgotten them at Sonny’s. Somehow, going for a ride right now sounds like an awesome idea. Except that he doesn’t and walks back into the house, giving the pies to Sam who takes them to the kitchen.


	18. Chapter 18

The first thing that hits Dean when he enters the dining room is how lavish everything looks. Even for special occasions at Sonny’s, there’s never been such rich linens or real silverware. The table is overflowing with food, with a turkey that looks just like those he’s seen on TV, with the little paper socks on the legs. Doesn’t matter that he stuffed his face with the same kind of stuff the night before, Dean is just as excited to do this again.

Both Novak men take place at one end of the table, leaving their guests to sit on either sides. As the great friend she is, Charlie makes sure to sit close to Castiel which means Dean gets to sit near his brother. On the other side, Clark too sits next to Sam with Rachel next to Cas.

The man of the house gets up, holding his glass of wine in front of him. Everybody raises their glasses, Dean and Sam the only ones with root beer instead of wine.

“First, let me welcome and thank each and everyone of you for being here and sharing this meal with us.” As he speaks, Castiel glances around the table quickly before stopping on his son. “I myself have a whole lot to be thankful for this year so I hope you won’t mind that I start.”

Everybody smiles and nods, urging him to continue.

“I think what I’m most thankful for this year is Dean coming into our lives. It may not have looked that way at first, but it’s thanks to you that we may have another chance at being a family again. And thank you, Charlie, for helping Dean find us,” he adds, making the girl flush and send a slightly panicked glance to Dean who smiles gently at her.

“Everyone at this table is a member of my family, as far as I’m concerned,” Castiel adds with mist in his eyes before taking a sip, soon imitated by the whole table. “Who’s next?”

The diners eye one another, apparently none of them ready to stand up and speak. Until Rachel just shrugs and gets to her feet, holding Clark’s hand as she does.

“My turn, I guess. So, thank you Sam and Castiel for letting me into your home and into your hearts. The second I met you both, I already considered you like family too.” She turns to Sam, smiling. “Your dad—Clark, I mean—he told me about you from day one. And although it wasn’t my place to judge him, all I ever wanted was for him to go to you. So thank you, Sam, for giving my husband a second chance.”

Rachel sits back down with Clark still holding her hand. He softly kisses it and gets up. “Hmm… I—I’m not really good at—at speeches and stuff…” He turns to smile at Castiel, then at Sam. “The only thing I can be thankful for at the moment is that you’re willing to try and know the person I am now,” he manages to say in a trembling voice before sitting down.

Sam’s eyes are soft when he reaches out to take Clark’s hand and squeeze it. Seeing that they look like they’re having a silent conversation, Dean figures he might as well take Sam’s turn and gets up. He hates doing this – again – but he knows it’s tradition. Doesn’t mean he has to be all sappy about it.

“I’m thankful for Charlie, and not just because she found Sam. She’s just awesome. And I’m thankful the Novaks wanna hang out with me even though I’m just a bum. And Clark and Rachel too, you’re cool people. Oh… and I’m super thankful for the food we should start eating soon ‘cause it’s gonna be all cold and shit.”

Thanks to Dean’s speech, the atmosphere gets just a little lighter with everyone having a good laugh. Sam and Charlie look at one another, unsure of who should go next. Sam motions at the redhead who nods and gets up.

“Hmm… I pretty much have the same thanks to give as Dean. Except for the part thanking myself, I guess. I’m just super thankful to have him as a friend… more like a brother, really. And thanks Mr. Novak for inviting me, you really didn’t have to. And I’ll shut up now ‘cause that bird looks delish!”

There’s a couple more laughs as Charlie sits back down and Sam finally takes the floor.

“Like my dad said before, I have a whole lot to be thankful for this year. And just like him, I gotta admit that it’s mostly because of Dean. And Charlie, of course. Dean is the one who introduced us to Sonny, who I’m super thankful for as well. Before Dean came, I was so messed-up… my dad didn’t even know the half of it. Now I have a chance of doing something good with my life.” He stops speaking, taking a moment to look everyone in the eye before casting his head down. “I’m just very sorry for all the shit I’ve put everyone through. And thank you for sticking up for me.”

  

The food is so delicious that people really don’t seem to mind that it’s not homemade. It doesn’t take long for everyone to be leaning back on their chairs, whining about how they ate too much and couldn’t possibly have another bite.

“There’s pie,” Castiel supplies between hiccups. “Dean and Charlie made them.”

Dean makes a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a huff. “Charlie didn’t do nothin’. I did it all by myself.”

“Ruth helped you,” Charlie counters, which Dean blatantly ignores.

“I brought three pies; pumpkin, pecan and apple. You’re welcome!”

All that answers Dean is some kind of communal groan.

“Why don’t you all go into the living room while we prepare dessert and coffee. Sam, care to help?”

Except Dean firmly believes that those pies are his responsibility. Which might explain why he gets up before his brother can oblige. “I’ll go. Kinda wanna see this dessert thing to the end.”

As he walks into the kitchen, he can feel Charlie’s worried gaze on his back. He huffs as he takes the pies out of the bag and lays them on the counter island, ripping off the plastic wraps.

He hears Cas coming up behind him, but keeps his eyes forward.

“How hot?” he hears Cas ask. Dean turns around, a little confused. “How hot do you need the oven to be?” Castiel precises. “You’re serving them warm, right?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Three fifty, please.”

“Very well.” Dean turns back to his pies with nothing to do but look at them. _Better that than Cas_ , he figures. He hears the man moving behind him, lots of beeping sounds happening. Too many beeping sounds.

“What the hell are you doin’?” he says, turning around again to find the other man manning the coffee maker. A new one, by the looks of it.

“The old machine broke this morning, I had to go buy a new one.” He turns to Dean and huffs. “It should be against the law for anything to break on Black Friday. I thought I was dying out there.”

Cas may look highly irritated, Dean stills snickers as he comes to stand next to him. “It does look like a fancy machine. Why did you buy that?”

“I took whatever I could get my hands on and pretty much ran away. After paying, of course.”

“Of course.”

And although he finds the anecdote funny, Dean realizes that he can’t laugh anymore. All he can do is try not to melt from the closeness of Castiel’s body. To distract himself, he snatches the instruction booklet from the other man’s hands and tries to read. Something his brain has apparently forgotten how to do.

“You should have let Sam help me,” Castiel says in a hush.

“Probably.”

Like magnets, their bodies keep getting closer without neither of them really moving. Until it’s unbearable and Dean just has to touch.

“Dean,” Castiel warns softly when Dean’s hand snakes around his back to rest low on his hip. “Not here. And not now,” he says, yet holding Dean’s hand in place rather than pushing it away.

“They’re all nursing their food coma in the living room,” Dean murmurs in Castiel’s ear. “Just one kiss… please…” he adds between small pecks on the man’s neck. “One…”

The one kiss turns into several as they devour each other’s mouths. It feels so right, Dean ignores the beeping of the oven in favor of bunching his fists into Castiel’s shirt. He wants to pull it off so bad.

It takes a thunderous “What the fuck!” to separate the panting men.

“Sam?” Dean hears Castiel say, convincing him to open his eyes. In the door stands the younger teenager with a horrified look on his face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yells again before turning away.

“Sam! Wait!” Castiel calls as he runs out to follow his son. Dean is tempted to go, but he knows it might not be the best of ideas. He wipes his mouth and sighs, knowing that this might be the end of it all.

  

When Charlie comes to find him, Dean has sunk to the floor. She sits beside him without a word and wraps an arm around his shoulders. It’s enough for him to start sobbing on her shoulder.

“Oh, Dean… I’m so sorry,” she says softly, petting his hair.

“I—I ruined—everything—I always—always ruin everything…” he says between sobs. He hiccups, then looks up at her. “I won’t—I won’t be ruining your night. Go find Robin.”

With a gentle smile, Charlie shakes her head. “I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

“He won’t be alone!”

Sam’s voice cracks like a whip, startling the both of them.

“I’m not staying here, I’m going back to Sonny’s. And I need you to drive me,” he says, looking straight at Charlie.”

“I don’t have my car, I came—”

“We’re taking Dean’s car. ‘Cause it’s our legacy, huh, Dean? You said so yourself.” Sam may be addressing Dean, he’s still making sure not to look at him. “Don’t worry, it’ll be waiting for you at Sonny’s for when you’re done screwing my dad.”  

Dean doesn’t get to say a single word before Sam walks out of the room again. He knows there’s nothing he can say that could make things all right so he just drops his keys into Charlie’s hand.

“I’ll talk to him,” she promises, making Dean sigh.

“Don’t bother,” he says. “Just get him home safe.”

“What about you?”

Torn between laughter and despair, Dean just shrugs. “Dunno… maybe Cas will let me sleep on the couch and bring me back tomo—”

A crashing sound resonates from the main room, making them both jump to their feet. Dean and Charlie run out of the kitchen to see what’s going on. When Charlie tries to come stand beside him, Dean extends a protective hand to shield her from whatever could be happening.

The others are in the living room, not looking as comatose as they probably should. Instead, Castiel has his back leaning against the wall, a broken picture frame at his feet. He’s looking sheepish while Clark is eyeing him darkly, Rachel sniffling between them.

Sam is nowhere to be seen.

“Do you know how much I wanna punch you right now?” Clark spits, ignoring his wife’s tentative hands on him.

“What are you waiting for?” Castiel says, sounding as if he’s hoping it will happen. And maybe he is.

Clark shakes his head, keeping his white-knuckled fists to his sides. “I’m not a violent person, you know that. But this… this is a new low, Castiel. It makes me wonder if you ever put your hands on my son?”

Castiel squares up, the will to fight back on his face. “I never touched _my_ son,” he yells, emphasizing the word ‘my’. “All I’ve ever done is care for him, love him. What about you, huh? Where the fuck were you?”

Wondering if he should try and intervene, Dean gets his answer in Rachel’s eyes on him. She must know what he’s thinking because she pinches her lips and shakes her head. With a last worried glance at the feuding men, she comes to stand next to him and leans toward Charlie.

“Sam is outside, waiting for a ride,” she says, her voice trembling, yet soft.

Charlie looks up at Dean, obviously not ready to go just yet. “But—”

“We’ll be okay, Charlie. Just bring Sammy home, all right?” Dean assures her before giving her a short hug. “I’ll call you later.”

As Charlie nods and turns to leave, Rachel grabs Dean by the arm and leads him back into the dining room. They don’t say a word as they sit, knowing that they’d better just wait. It takes long enough for Dean to start picking at the leftovers. He’s not even hungry, he just needs to be doing something.

When Clark comes to get his wife sometime later, he sends Dean a disdained look. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” is all he says before leading his wife back into the main room. 

Ten seconds later, the front door closes in a loud thump.

  

Not a sound can be heard in the house. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d be convinced he’s been left alone. He walks out of the dining room and back into the living room. Castiel is there, sitting on the sofa and sipping something dark from a fancy looking glass. He looks up when Dean coughs to announce his presence.

“You’re still here,” is all the man says before downing the contents of his glass. He pours himself some more and keeps drinking.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean feels the need to say, although he knows it won’t change a thing.

What it does is make Cas chuckle. “You’re sorry. I’m sorry. Everybody’s sorry,” he sing songs before swallowing his drink. His hand trembles as he fills up the glass again, much fuller than he’s done before. “Can you believe the nerve? The audacity? Who does he think he is, being all preachy about how I raised my son! I did a good job. No! I did a great job! She’s the one who left him behind, okay? She’s the one who fucked him up. Not me!”

Dean comes to sit in the armchair, thinking they better not be too close right now. He’d also like to correct Castiel’s pronoun mistakes, but he doesn’t. He’s pretty sure it would just go over his head right now anyway.

“He got married, didn’t he? To a simpleminded girl too, if you wanna know what I really think. Why couldn’t I find someone to love too, huh?” Castiel turns to Dean, the fire in his eyes enhanced by the alcohol. “Because… I could love you, you know? If I could, I would love you. But I can’t! You’re off limits, Dean. You’re too young. And you share DNA with my son. To some, it apparently means that what I really want is sex with Sam.”

Castiel shakes his head, looking like he’s trying to hold in whatever’s climbing up his throat. “I would never, ever, wanna touch Sam this way. He’s my little boy, my child!” He grabs Dean’s knee and snakes his hand up his thigh. “I have no feelings toward you whatsoever,” he says in a hush.

Not that he’s surprised, but Castiel’s admission still leave Dean’s heart to deflate. “Nice to know, Cas.”

“Nonononono,” Cas mumbles. He goes to take a sip from his glass, but Dean grabs it instead. He doesn’t seem to notice. “What I mean is… I don’t love you like a son, you hear? What I want is to fuck you. I want you to spread your legs for me. I want my dick pounding your ass and I want you howling like a damn wolf because it’s just that good.”

Castiel is giggling as he tries to get his glass back, but Dean makes sure it’s out of reach. All that talk about fucking is making him horny again, but he knows nothing will happen tonight. And probably never again, seeing how Cas will no doubt be kicking his ass out the minute he’s sober.

“I think you’re pretty tired, Cas. Time for bed, wouldn’t you say? Come on.”

Castiel keeps giggling as Dean pulls him to his feet and helps him up the stairs. It gets increasingly difficult with the man trying to suck a bruise on Dean’s neck.

“Cas! We’re trying to get you to your room, stop distracting me,” he says although what he really wants is to push the man against the wall and ravage him. “Which one’s your room?”

“There!” Castiel answers, pointing to the door at the end of the hall. 

It takes a little too long for the two men to make their way to Castiel’s bedroom. And when Dean pushes him onto his bed, Castiel is still sentient enough to grab at Dean’s arm and pull him down with him.

“Cas!”

“You sleep here. With me.”

“Not a good idea, Cas. You’re drunk!”

“You’re drunk!” Castiel mumbles into the comforter. It’s the last thing he says before he starts snoring.

Dean stays with Cas for a little while, if only to make sure that he’s not puking himself to death. Also, the bed is pretty comfortable. He had gotten used to that back in Pontiac and he’s glad to be able to enjoy a bed this comfy again.

Still, he knows that he can’t stay the night. Not in this bed, anyway. So he pushes himself up to go back downstairs. He reminds himself that the leather couch is really nice to sleep on anyway. Even nicer than his bed at Sonny’s, which is pretty telling.

He doesn’t go to sleep immediately, instead going to the dining room to take care of the leftovers. He brings everything to the kitchen, disheartened at the sight of the uneaten pies still sitting on the counter. He turns off the oven and rewraps the pies in plastic before putting them in the fridge. He does the same for most of what’s left from dinner.

It’s well past midnight when Dean finally sits on the couch. He cleaned up the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room. He even managed to make the coffee machine work, setting it to start automatically the next morning.

He’s worn out when he finally lies down on the sofa, the only light coming from the almost muted TV. He closes his eyes, concentrating on the faint music. It’s pop, and it’s crap, but he doesn’t care as it helps him softly drift off to sleep.

  

Emerging from his slumber, Dean has to wonder what’s making him feel so good. He tries to hold on to the night, the bits and pieces of some kind of wet dream fleeting away. Until his brain starts to make sense of things.

His junk feels unnaturally warm… and wet. And that liquid warmth belongs to a mouth; a practiced, energetic mouth.

“Cas?” he asks, although he already knows. A low hum confirms it. “Fuck!” he hisses when he feels a wet finger circling his ass. “No!” he still says in a whine. “Please don’t! Just—”

Castiel doesn’t insist, leaving Dean’s hole alone to start massaging his balls instead. It makes Dean jolt up, pushing his dick all the way down Castiel’s throat. “Shit! Fuck!” he cries as Castiel coughs and drools, pushing Dean’s hips back down.

Cas doesn’t have to work for very long before Dean warns him that he’s about to come. The man doesn’t move away, drinking up everything Dean has to give.

He laves Dean’s dick carefully, licking every inch of it. Dean buries his hand in Castiel’s hair, scratching at his scalp as he tries to pull him up. He needs to taste himself on Cas’s tongue. Then he’s gonna lie down and beg him to fuck his mouth… hard!

But Castiel doesn’t let himself be guided up and soon evades Dean’s touch. He gets up, keeping his eyes on the floor. 

“Good night,” is all he says before climbing the stairs back to his room.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Waking up in Castiel’s living room is pretty confusing. Dean has to close his eyes again and wait for his brain to start functioning properly. Then he remembers the shitfest from the night before, how Sam had caught him and his dad kissing in the kitchen. As for Castiel coming to him in the middle of the night, it feels more like a dream than anything else.

Dean sits up and yawns as he stretches all that can be stretched, making his joints snap, crackle and pop. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee is permeating the air, prompting his stomach to rumble. There’s a ton of food in the fridge from last night, plus the three untouched pies. He starts salivating at the thought of getting a humongous piece of warm apple pie for breakfast.

“Had the same idea,” Dean says when he finds Castiel sitting in the kitchen with the very breakfast he had envisioned. He goes to sit beside Castiel, a plate and mug already laid out for him.

“That’s new,” he says, seeing the coffee carafe sitting on some kind of warming plate. He fills his cup and cuts himself a piece of pie.

“You didn’t have to clean everything up, Dean,” Castiel says while Dean plows through his breakfast. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

Castiel’s tone is rough when he speaks again. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. I knew my son was in the next room and yet…” He sighs, deflated. Which is kind of why his hand landing on Dean’s knee comes as a total surprise. “I’m sorry to have brought you into this mess, Dean.”

“You didn’t bring me into anything, Cas. I pretty much invited myself into your lives.”

“You did, but I’m not taking back anything I said yesterday. I’ll forever be indebted to you. Whatever happened next is my own damn fault.”

All Dean wants is to grab Castiel’s hand back when he takes it off his leg. Still he doesn’t because, right now, he doesn’t know where they stand. As far as he’s concerned, Dean would just ignore everything that’s not the two of them. Except he knows that’s down right impossible.

“When would you like me to drive you back to Sonny’s?” Castiel asks, helping the atmosphere to switch to a more neutral one.

“Dunno… whenever’s best for you. Now or later, I don’t care.”

Castiel nods and takes the last bite of his pie, chasing it down with coffee. As he munches on his own breakfast, Dean is desperately trying to find something to talk about. The only question plaguing his mind right now is if Cas really came to swallow his load the night before.

Dean’s phone gives him some respite when it rings in his pocket. He grabs it to see Sonny’s name appear on the screen.

“Hey, Sonny!”

“D-Dog… wasn’t sure you’d be up yet. You’re still at Castiel’s?”

“Yeah… slept on the couch though.”

“You know I don’t care, Dean.”

“No—I know, but I still did. How’re Sam and Charlie? They made it all right?”

“They didn’t crash your car, if that’s what you wanna know.”

“So they’re with you?”

“Of course they are.” Sonny sighs heavily in the phone. “Son, you guys fucked things up real bad. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“Sam is a mess. I haven’t seen him this angry since… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this pissed, actually. Right now, nobody can approach him. Not even Charlie.”

“Why are you telling me this? I already feel bad enough, Sonny. No need to—”

“I’m telling you this so you understand why I don’t want you back here today. That whole thing’s got Sam on edge and the kids don’t need that kind of environment. Hell, I don’t need it!”

“But—”

“I think you should stay clear of your brother for a little while.”

“Are you kicking me out, Sonny?”

“No… not really… Charlie’s sleeping in your room anyway so—”

“I got nowhere else to go.”

Sonny now sounds choked up. “You have a job. Pretty sure you can rent a room until this whole thing blows over.”

“You think it will?”

“I honestly don’t know, son. It might take some time. If you wouldn’t mind letting Castiel know he too should stay away, I’d appreciate it.”

Dean’s not doing much better, feeling like he tried to swallow a bowling ball only to have it stuck in his throat. “Can—can I at least come and—come and get my car?”

“Of course. Just don’t try and see Sam, all right? The keys will be in the sun visor. I’ll also put your stuff in the trunk. You know, your clothes and stuff.”

“All right. Thanks, Sonny. I’m so, so sorry. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“Be patient, Dean. It’s all you can really do at this point.”

  

The drive to Brockport is silent for the most part, the radio filling the space between Dean and Cas.

“So, where will you go?” Castiel eventually asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Sonny told you to stay away for a while. Where will you go?”

Dean shrugs, not really in the mood to talk.

“I’m asking because… you could always stay with me.”

Dean can’t even pretend not to be shocked. “Really, Cas? You really think that’s the best idea? I don’t think me moving in with you is gonna help Sam forgive us any time soon.”

“We’re not moving in together, Dean. It’s just one friend helping out another.”

“Like you helped me out in the middle of the night?” Dean is a little ashamed of the bitterness in his tone, but finds that he can’t help it.

“I was drunk.”

This time, Dean chuckles although he’s starting to get pissed. “Whatever you wanna tell yourself, dude! I’ll just find something closer to work so don’t you worry about me.”

“Please, Dean. You’re right, okay? I just—I always—I want you so bad, you know?”

For the first time since they left Hilton, Dean looks at Castiel. The man has his eyes on the road, the tips of his ears and cheeks a dark pink.

“What are you trying to say, Cas?”

“I thought I was being clear.”

“Okay… so we wouldn’t be moving in together. It’s a friend helping another… with benefits? Or would it be my way of paying you back? Like maybe that blowjob last night was you thanking me for cleaning up?”

Instead of answering, Castiel pumps the brakes and swerves the car to stop on the curb. He turns to Dean, visibly pained by Dean’s assumptions.

“How can you say this, Dean? Do you really think I’d welcome you into my home only to expect sex in return? Or offer it to thank you? Do you really think so little of me?”

“No, of course—I just—I don’t know anymore, all right?”

It’s like a rift opening in Dean’s chest when he notices the other man’s chin tremble.

“Maybe everyone’s right. Maybe I’m a just a predator, preying on young men to—”

“How many people my age have you slept with?” Dean demands.

Castiel shrugs, worrying at his lower lip. “The last time it happened, I was barely older than she was so it wouldn’t count, I guess.”

“See? You’re no predator. Plus, you’re missing the tentacle hair stuff,” Dean says, trying not to laugh when Castiel looks up at him, clearly confused.

“What?”

“Predator. The movie?” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t think—this is serious, Dean. I never wanted you to think you owed me a single thing. Especially not sexual favors. Tell me that you understand that.”

“I understand. It’s just all so confusing. All those mixed signals—”

“I know. If it wasn’t for Sam, or you being related to him, I’d probably want to bring you home and make love to you for the rest of my life. But we—”

“Okay!”

“We—what?”

“I’ll go home with you.”

Dean can see Castiel is about to say something, but he changes his mind and instead swerves back onto the road. They park the car next to the Impala less than ten minutes later. Charlie is walking down the slope to meet them, but they don’t get out immediately.

“I’ll go see Sam. You’re gonna wait or drive back home now?”

“Cas, Sonny asked that we don’t try to see him, not yet. Let him—”

“He’s my son, Dean. I have to see him, if only for a minute. He needs to know that I love him.”

“I’m sure he knows.”

Castiel shakes his head and sighs. “Pretty sure he thinks that I don’t. I don’t care that he’s mad at me, I need to make sure he knows.”

“It’s a bad idea, Cas. I’m not waiting to see him shut you down.”

“That’s fine,” Castiel says as he takes his car key off the ring. He tosses the rest to Dean. “Just go home, I won’t be far behind.”

While Cas stalks up to the house, Dean walks to his car, Charlie’s concerned gaze on him.

“Are you okay?” she says as she softly rubs his arm. “Castiel isn’t really welcome right now,” she adds, pointing her thumb at the house.

“He knows. Says he needs Sam to hear that he loves him or something.”

Charlie nods, crossing her arms over her chest and looking pointedly at him.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I wanted you to have a good time.”

“I know… and I did, at first. The drama is a bit overwhelming though.”

It’s Dean’s turn to nod as he casts his eyes down. He doesn’t even look up when his friend talks again.

“So… you and Cas, was it worth it? Are you guys dating now?”

“Nah! I’ll be staying at his place though, since Sonny doesn’t want me to come back.”

“Dean—”

“I know, all right?” Dean says curtly, once more looking at Charlie. “I’m dumb, Cas is dumb, and we probably broke Sam’s heart. I have nowhere else to go.”

“You did break his heart. And living with his dad certainly won’t help.”

Dean looks away again and sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “How did it go with Robin?” he asks, not wanting to debate about his plans with Cas.

“Fine… go live with the guy, see if I care!” Charlie rolls her eyes and huffs. “As for Robin, I wasn’t feeling up to it after what happened so I called it off.”

They both turn their attention to the house to see Castiel sitting on the swing, probably waiting for Sam to come out. And although he’s tempted to stay and see how this will all play out, Dean instead turns to his friend and hugs her.

“I gotta go. I don’t wanna make things worse. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Winchester. Sonny insists that I stay the night, but I’ll be leaving early tomorrow. It just sucks that you won’t be seeing you.”

“I know… again, I’m sorry for all the drama. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“If you wanna make it up to me, make things right with Sam, okay? That kid needs you, his brother. And he needs his dad.”

  

When Castiel comes home almost a full three hours later, Dean is a worried mess.

“Where were you?”

“Around,” is all Castiel offers as he shucks off his coat and shoes. He barely looks at Dean when he comes to sit in the living room.

“How did it go?”

“As well as you said it would. He’s so mad at me… at us,” he adds, looking up at Dean.

Dean gulps when he sees the sorrow in the man’s eyes. He knows there’s nothing he can say that could make things better. “So what happened? He yelled at you for three hours straight?”

“Of course not. I was back on the road after ten minutes. Just needed to drive for a bit, clear my head.”

If there’s something Dean can understand, it’s that. When he drives his baby, nothing else matters. He could spend the rest of his life on the roads as long as he had her by his side.

“Any great revelations?”

“Maybe,” Castiel says, turning to face Dean who’s sitting at the other end of the sofa. “I’ve mostly been thinking about us. How wrongfully right you feel to me.”

“But Sam—”

“One day, Sam will move away and live his own life. And I’ll be left alone because I will have turned my back on the only thing that’s made me feel remotely alive in a long time.” Castiel holds a hand up, urging Dean to listen. “I love being a father, it’s brought me the greatest joy from the very start. But it’s not all that I am. I’m also a man with desires, and feelings. Things I would have kept on ignoring if you hadn’t come into our lives.”

All Dean wants is to take Cas in his arms, but he waits, still not sure of what is being said. Castiel must have sensed it because he moves sideways on the sofa and takes both of Dean’s hands in his.

“I came to the conclusion that Sam may never forgive me. And I know there’s not much that can be done to prevent that. So if he’s going to be mad at me for wanting to be happy, then I should at least be fucking happy!” he concludes before kissing Dean.

Although surprised, Dean doesn’t stay idle for long, finally able to savor what he’s been craving. They help each other undress, getting naked in record time. Castiel moves and pulls Dean on his lap, their mouths barely ever coming apart.

Soon, Dean is rutting against Castiel, their dicks slotted together. Castiel grabs them both in his hand, adding some much needed friction.

“Cas… so good… beautiful…” Dean moans in the man’s mouth. He bites down on his plump lower lip, hard enough to draw blood.

“Shit! Dean! Dean!” Castiel whines as he accelerates the rhythm of his hand over their lengths. “I can’t wait to fuck you… want you so bad,” he murmurs while Dean nibbles on his ear.

“Your fingers,” Dean says in a stutter before taking Castiel’s free hand to start sucking on the fingers, making them wet. “Fuck me like this!”

Castiel is looking at him in awe when he plunges a first finger in Dean’s hole. He feels as if something has been missing his whole life and that something is Castiel. And when Cas pushes a second finger in, Dean knows he’ll never have enough. He pumps his hips minutely, praying for Castiel to brush his prostate.

When he does, Dean lets out a shaky whine and drops his head down, joining their sweaty foreheads together. And Dean wants more, wants three, four, five fingers. He wants a fist. He wants it all.

“Need lube for that,” Castiel says, breathless, hinting Dean to the fact that he’s been saying this shit out loud. “Some other time, I promise,” he adds, rubbing at the bundle of nerves without respite, making Dean mewl and tremble over him.

  

The honeymoon lasts thirty-two days, twelve hours and thirty-three minute. Not that anyone’s counting, or that Dean realizes it immediately either. Waking up alone in Castiel’s bed one morning is not something that’s never happened, but he kind of hates it anyway. He takes a look at his watch – Castiel’s Christmas gift – to see that it’s close to ten.

Annie closed up shop for the Holidays so Dean had envisioned the week between Christmas and New Year’s to be spent in bed. With Cas. Every single minute of every day. Except that ship has apparently sailed and he gets up, knowing that once Cas is up he doesn’t come back to bed.

As he pads downstairs in his underwear, Dean notices the office door is closed. That only happens when Cas is working, which is odd since he should be on break this week.

“Cas?” he calls out, but there’s no answer. The man probably has his earphones on and can’t hear him. “Cas?” he repeats louder, now standing at the door and knocking. He’s tempted to open the door, but Castiel has been adamant against that. When the door’s closed that means he’s working and would rather not be interrupted.

So Dean leaves to go to the kitchen, rubbing his growling stomach and dreaming of some kind of monster breakfast with eggs, sausages, bacon, and hash browns. Maybe Cas wouldn’t be working too late and they could drive up to Cus’s Place. Their hash browns are the bomb.

He grabs himself some coffee and sits at the counter with his phone in hand. Castiel may have asked that Dean doesn’t come in when the door’s closed, but he certainly didn’t say anything about texting.

> **_To Cas:_ ** _Morning! I’m hungry, wanna go to Cus’s?_

As usual, the response comes almost immediately.

> **_From Cas:_ ** _Please come join me._

His coffee in hand, Dean goes back to the office and walks in.

“Good morning, Dean.”

Castiel’s voice is rough and shaky, and he looks just as bad as sounds.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Dean says, coming to kneel next to him.

“I—I got a call—a call from Sonny—”

“Is Sam all right?”

“Yes— he wants to leave… he wants to live with his mother—with Clark, I mean. In Maine.”

“Can he do that? Don’t you have custody or something?”

Castiel shrugs, his bottom lip trembling as he finally turns his blue stare on Dean. “I do, I have sole custody. Except if that’s what Sam wants… I can’t keep him from his mo—I don’t even know what to call him anymore. I’m Sam’s father, what the hell does that make him?”

“Sam wouldn’t be the first kid to have two dads you know.”

“No, I know that. I just don’t know what to think anymore. I don’t want him to go.”

After getting back up to pull a chair next to Cas, Dean sits and grabs his lover’s hand in his. “Did you tell him that?”

“He’s not talking to me, Dean. I tried his cell, but he’s clearly dodging my calls. Also texted him and he’s not answering back. He wouldn’t even come to the phone when I tried going through Sonny.”

Softly caressing Castiel’s knuckles with his thumbs, Dean leans in to kiss him. “I’m sorry, Cas. I really am.”

“I know.”

“Did you talk to Clark? What does he say?”

“I did, and he didn’t say much. Pretty much repeated what Sonny told me. He wants to go to mediation and renegotiate the custody arrangements.”

“Oh shit… child support! You’re gonna get milked, man.”

It’s a surprise for Dean to see the angry light in Castiel’s eyes. “Do you really think that’s my concern, Dean? Honestly?”

“I—no—I don’t know.”

“You’re right, you don’t know. I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. Those are adult matters.”

Although he knows Castiel is in the bad place right now, him snapping like that is a little too reminiscent of what made Dean leave Pontiac all those months ago. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? If I’m not an adult, then what the fuck does that make you?”

Without waiting for an answer, Dean stomps back to the bedroom to get dressed. When he comes out, he finds Castiel blocking the way.

“Don’t go,” the older man says, his eyes filled with sadness again. “I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to help and I’m being an ass. Don’t go, please”

“I’m not going anywhere, Cas. Just found it a bit chilly to be hanging out in my boxers.” What Dean doesn’t say is that if he had somewhere else to go, he probably would leave. Whatever Cas is saying now, there’s no doubt in his mind that the man just sees him as a dumb kid. They have no real future together, that’s for sure. He should start looking for his own place already.

“I’ll stay out of your business, don’t worry,” he says, failing at not sounding icy.

“Don’t be like that, Dean. Please… once again, my frustration was misdirected. I never meant what I said.” Castiel kind of smiles as he comes to take Dean in his arms, pressing their bodies together. “If I saw you as a child, I could never want you, no matter how cute you are.” He kisses Dean on the lips, softly. “Let’s go to Cus’s,” he says, both his hands rubbing at Dean’s back. “Let’s fill up on carbs, sugar, and grease. And then let’s come back and burn all those calories off. What do you say?”

Dean is no idiot, he knows Cas is pandering to two of his biggest weaknesses; food and sex. He’s tempted to evade the man’s arms and stand his ground, but there’s this little voice in the back of his mind telling him he better enjoy whatever this is while it lasts. He sighs and shakes his head, letting out an empty chuckle as he hugs Cas back.

“All right,” is all he says, pretty much convinced that this is the beginning of the end. Once more.

  

It doesn’t come as a surprise that this very night is the first one Castiel asks Dean to go sleep in the guest room. He claims that he’s tired and feels the need for some space. And when Dean hears the man sobbing in the middle of the night, he stays in his room although he’d rather go and console him.

They don’t speak about it the next day. Nor do they speak about it when Cas requests again to spend the night alone. After a week, it’s not even a question anymore; Dean has permanently moved into the guest room and doesn’t try to follow Cas to his bed.

Dean starts to find the arrangements confusing and frustrating. He’d certainly understand if Cas had grown tired of him, but they keep making out as they watch TV. Castiel even comes to his room at night to fuck, only to go back to his own bed afterward.

It all feels so fragile that Dean can’t bring himself to ask questions. He knows that Cas misses Sam a great deal. Not only did he not see him during the Holidays, but now the kid has gone and moved to Maine with his other father and stepmother.

So Dean kinda understands. He too lost Sam, because he had been too dumb to keep it in his pants. He also knows that deep down, Cas blames him for everything. And he’s right, too, so Dean lets Cas take whatever he wants. And if sex is what the other man needs, then he’ll make sure to give it without fault.

Right up until the morning of his twentieth birthday when Cas comes to join him in his room with a full breakfast tray. They feast on pancakes and bacon, and end up spending most of that Sunday napping and having sex. They also cuddle and chat, something that hasn’t happened in a while.

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Dean confesses as he’s coming down from the mother of all blowjobs. He’s running his fingers in Castiel’s hair, the other man’s head resting against Dean’s stomach. Castiel’s own fingers are softly caressing Dean’s dark pink scar.

“I’m glad,” he says, looking up at him. There’s melancholy in his eyes. “I have to tell you something.”

Closing his eyes, Dean hums, somewhat tempted to let sleep claim him.

“I’m leaving.”

“Ah yeah? Need to go to the store or something? Want me to come with?”

Castiel moves away from Dean, prompting him to open his eyes again. “No, Dean… I’m leaving the country. I’m joining Balthazar’s dig in Israel.”

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

“It’s official! I can never have nice things! Happy fucking birthday to me!”

“Dean—”

“You couldn’t wait another day before telling me?” Dean says as he gets up to go find some underwear. He doesn’t put them on, instead turning to face Cas again. “When are you leaving?”

“Next month. They’re wrapping up the dig they’re at and I’ll be joining them at their next site.”

Dean nods, now turning back around to grab some clean clothes. “That’ll give me enough time to find somewhere else to live.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Wonder if I could go back to Sonny’s, now that Sam’s gone,” Dean continues, not wanting to hear whatever Castiel is trying to say. “I’m taking a shower and then I’ll go for a birthday drive with my baby.”

Although he tries real hard to sound unruffled, Dean is anything but. Once the door of the bathroom closes on him, the clothes slip from his trembling hands and he has to hold onto the sink to stay upright. He takes a second to breathe and steel himself, hating the fact that he’s right about to cry like a damn baby over some guy who obviously doesn’t wanna have anything to do with him.

He gets under the shower spray, trying not to think about the full bottle of expensive Scotch the University gave Cas as a Christmas gift. His skin tingles and his mouth waters at the idea of drinking it all down. He’d love not to be able to think or feel about anything for once. 

Alcohol is on the forefront of his mind when he comes out of the bathroom to an empty room, as it is when he walks downstairs to find the office door closed. Even when he drives back to Brockport, all he can think about is how any type of booze would feel like heaven as it slides down his throat.

Sonny looks alarmed when he finds him at his door. “Dean! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says as he walks in the house, only to be met by a suspicious glare. “All right, I’m not. Things are not going so well and—”

“You look awful. You didn’t drink, did you?”

“Nah!”

Sonny exhales, visibly relieved, and wraps an arm around Dean’s shoulder. “I’m glad you came to see me, Dean. It’s been a while and the kids are missing you. But first, let’s see how I can help, all right?”

Dean nods, letting the other man steer him to the empty kitchen. “Root beer?” he asks as Dean sits at the table. Dean nods again, thankful.

“What’s making you crave the booze, Dean? Anything to do with Castiel?” he asks as he sits at the table with two cans of soda. “It’s not going so well?”

“He’s leaving,” Dean spits after downing half his can. “He’s going to Israel to work, he says. Pretty sure it’s just an excuse he found so he’d finally be getting rid of me.”

“That sounds a little extreme, if you ask me. Isn’t he an archeologist? That’s his job.”

“No! His job is to write whatever and talk to students about it once in a blue moon. Him going to play in the dirt to find old Jesus crap is an escape plan.”

“So what if it is?” Sonny asks with a shrug. “Are you two even together?”

The question makes Dean flush. “Well… it’s not like we call each other boyfriends, but—”

“I think Cas may need to get away from it all, if only for a little while. Sam isn’t talking to him, Clark only communicates through his lawyer… Castiel’s a mess, you can see that, right?”

“I’d say he hides it well.”

“He doesn’t hide shit, Dean. I just think that you don’t wanna see it.”

The next sip of soda tastes bitter on Dean’s tongue. He certainly hadn’t come to Sonny’s to be lectured. He had actually hoped to get a sympathetic ear instead.

“Why are you being so hard on me?”

“I’m talking to you as an adult, Dean. You don’t like it?”

“Not so much, no,” he admits with a shrug.

“You better get used to it. You know I love you, kid, but you gotta take responsibility for whatever shit you do. And that’s what Cas is doing, if you ask me. In leaving, he’s freeing you both.”

“And what if I don’t want to be freed?”

“Sadly, that’s not only up to you.”

  

When Dean drives Castiel to Buffalo’s airport a month later, they’re both trying to keep the atmosphere light, as if it didn’t hurt like hell to end things. That’s how it feels for Dean anyway. After begging Sonny to let him come back – and being told there was no more room for him – Dean had gone back to Hilton to stay with Cas until he could find something.

It didn’t take much for Castiel to convince Dean to stay and house sit for him. After Dean accepted, everything went back to how it was, with Dean in the guest room and Castiel coming to him almost every night. And just like before, Dean couldn’t find the strength to refuse him.

“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” Castiel says as he takes him in his arms.

“Pretty sure you’ll find someone to fuck over there,” Dean answers, letting a bit of bitterness tint his words. Castiel doesn’t respond to that, instead hugging him even harder.

“I wish things could be different. Still, I believe being apart should help us both get some perspective.”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat and nods into Castiel’s neck. Not that he really agrees, but he doesn’t have the heart to start bickering again. He leans back so their eyes will meet, sending him a silent plea. Castiel’s response comes as a warm lingering kiss on his lips and his hands soft on his face.

“All I want is for you to be happy, you know that, right?” He kisses Dean once more. “I’ll see you in six months, Dean,” he adds, turning away before Dean can even say a single word.

He watches Castiel as he pulls his luggage behind him with his head cast down. To Dean, it feels as if his heart is being crushed and ripped out of his chest with every step Cas takes. It takes someone honking to pull him out of his own head. He turns and waves at the waiting car and hops back in the Impala to leave.

The drive back to Hilton takes a little longer than it should, with Dean not in a hurry to get back to the empty house. He considers stopping by Sonny’s on the way, but doesn’t; what he needs is a friend that’s not too pragmatic and will let him rant and be pissy about Cas leaving.

“Hey, Winchester! The deed is done?” Charlie asks when Dean skypes her the second he gets home. She’s giving him the look he needs; a couple of drops of pity in a sea of compassion.

“Yup… Cas is gone.”

“For how long?”

“He says it should be six months. Maybe more, who knows?”

“So, you’re single again?”

Dean sighs and shrugs. “Don’t think I could say I wasn’t before, you know?”

“Like hell, you weren’t. Nevertheless, you should go out tonight. Go find yourself someone to—”

“Not happening! Talk about something else, yeah?”

“As you wish. So… when are you due back in Pontiac?”

“Three months from now. Brady’s trial’s been moved up.”

“How about the other one? Luke?”

“Three weeks later or something.”

“That’ll be a fun thing to do, driving up and down there.”

“Well, I’ve asked Annie for some time off and I’ll just do that once. I don’t really know how long the whole thing’s gonna last so Benny’s letting me stay with him.”

“That’s nice of him. Maybe I’ll drive up to see you, it’s much closer than Hilton,” she says, laughing.

“I’d like that very much. You gotta meet Benny, and Jo, and Ellen.”

“Can’t wait! Now let me tell you about this girl I’ve been seeing…”

  

If Dean hadn’t had a troublesome childhood, he may have found the courtroom intimidating. So when he’s called in to testify, what makes him nervous is the sight of Clark and Rachel sitting a couple rows back. He had forgotten Sam would be called as a witness too.

The attorneys for both sides don’t keep him up there for long, especially when it’s clear that he never saw Brady actually stab the victim. And because of Luke’s impending trial, they can only brush the subject of his implication with the gang.

Dean sits in the courtroom when he’s done, which means he gets to attend Sam’s own testimonial. The kid isn’t as lucky as he was, Brady’s defense attorney being a real asshat. Everything comes out; Sam’s addiction, his drug dealings, and even other stuff Dean hadn’t known about. It’s clear by the end of it that he’s trying to pin the crime on Sam rather than Brady. Or at the very least make it sound like a definite possibility.

It takes another two days, Sam being called to the witness stand a second time, for the attorneys to make their plea. As expected, Brady’s lawyer is trying really hard to make Sam appear as the real culprit, arguing that Brady is being framed. And when Dean tries to send an encouraging nod to his brother, all that he gets back is Clark’s dark stare on him.

The jury doesn’t deliberate for long. Dean almost jumps to his feet when they announce that they found Brady guilty on all charges, making the judge sentence him to thirteen years with no chance of parole. Dean spots Andrew Gallagher’s parents weeping in each other’s arm a couple of rows in front of him. He then turns to see Sam looking at the floor, but with a relieved smile on his face.

Clark doesn’t wait long before leading his wife and son out of the courtroom, glancing at Dean one last time. Dean could swear the man looks grateful when he nods at him but he doesn’t want to ask, just in case he’s wrong.

The next month goes by quickly although Dean doesn’t have much more to do than hang out at Benny’s place. More often than not, he’ll go spend some time at Harvelle’s while he waits for his friend’s shift to be over. On slow days, Ellen lets him take a booth for himself while he plays around on his computer.

This is Dean’s routine right up until Luke’s trial. As the victim, he gets to sit in the front this time, while Benny’s in another room waiting to be called in. He does his best not to stare at Luke who’s sitting next to his attorney, the same that had been hired to defend Brady.

After Dean has testified, Benny is called and he pretty much confirms whatever Dean had been able to remember. All but the attack itself or the minutes leading to it. When Luke’s attorney, Fergus McLeod, tries to pin the crime onto Benny himself, more than half the courtroom objects loudly, very much outraged.

His agenda is now clear; he wants to make the jury doubt that Luke was ever implicated, just like he had tried to do for Brady. Which pretty much means it’s Benny’s word against Luke’s. Still, there are enough character witnesses – Sam being back to testify again – to make Luke appear like he’s the scum of the earth – which he really is. He too is found guilty on all accounts, from attempted murder to every single drug related accusation, granting him with nine years in a state prison.

Although positive for him, the verdict has the effect of a bomb on Dean. Had he not been sitting down, he would have no doubt fell to his knees. It’s like he’s been living on adrenaline since all that shit happened and he finally ran out, making him start sobbing uncontrollably. Ellen, who had insisted on being there, takes him in her arms.

“That’s it… let it all go,” she murmurs in Dean’s ear, brushing a soothing hand on his back. “It’s over.”

And this time, when Dean looks over at Sam, his brother has his eyes on him. They nod at one another before once more going their separate ways.

  

Going back to Castiel’s empty house doesn’t help Dean, who hasn’t been feeling so good since the trial. Not that he understands why; his attacker has been found guilty and sent to jail. Yet, Dean can’t seem to find solace in that, feeling like an entire colony of ants has taken residence under his skin.

After three days of being unable to sleep – because anytime he does he has nightmares – Dean finds Castiel’s liquor cabinet. Okay, he might have been looking for it. And yeah, it wasn’t really hidden either. 

There it is, that expensive scotch Castiel had received, not even half consumed. Next to it is an unopened bottle of dark rum and Dean knows that brand isn’t really expensive. Were he to drink it, it’d be easy to buy a replacement. Not so much to hide the fact that he drank it, but rather to not be stealing Castiel’s shit.

As he grabs the bottle, he has a fleeting thought for his mentor. If Sonny knew Dean was about to relapse, he’d drive up here in a flash. He’d convince Dean to drop the bottle and leave with all of Castiel’s booze. Which is not something Dean wants to contemplate right now.

Too tired to fight his own impulses, Dean watches himself twisting the cap off and start drinking directly from the bottle. A couple of hours later, he’s sitting in the living room in his underwear watching Dr. Sexy, holding the now almost empty bottle. His phone rings on occasion, but he ignores it, engrossed in the overacted TV drama.

He’s sprawled on the floor when he wakes up the next morning, next to a puddle of his own sick. The sight and smell is enough to make him run to the bathroom, barely making it in time. The morning is spent in looking up how to wash puke out of carpets and following instructions. Castiel’s living room area rug looks expensive enough for Dean to be scared of ruining it.

When he’s done, he’s finally able to keep food down and makes himself a sandwich. He washes it down with the vodka he finds in the cabinet. Come dinner time, he’s emptied it and starts up the half quart of Jack he finds in the back.

That’s pretty much how he spends the two days leading to his next therapy session; drinking, puking, cleaning, not sleeping unless it’s alcohol induced. At least, he doesn’t have nightmares anymore. He’s tired as fuck and looks as if he’s crawled out of hell, but he doesn’t care.

  

“Where’s Dr. Creaser?”

“I’ll be handling your case from now on, Dean. My name is Dr. Tapping, but you can call me Naomi.”

Dean harrumphs, unimpressed. “So what? Am I so fucked up that he can’t handle me?”

“Martin distributed his entire clientele among all the other doctors. It has nothing to do with you specifically. He just needed to take a breather.”

“Oh… is he okay?”

“Don’t you worry, Dean. Let’s talk about you instead, shall we?” Dean’s sole answer is a shrug. Naomi smiles and opens the folder on her lap. “Tell me… how are you feeling these days?”

Dean shrugs again, keeping his eyes on the patterned rug.

“I see here that the reason you missed your last appointments is because you were in Kansas for legal matters? Wanna tell me how that went?”

“There’s not much to say. Testified, the creeps were sent to jail, the end.”

“Shouldn’t that be making you happy? According to Martin’s notes, you were shot. Must be nice to know the shooter’s gonna pay for his crime, no?”

“I guess. Doesn’t help me sleep better though.”

“The meditation isn’t working for you? Decided to go back to alcohol instead?”

Almost choking on his own tongue, Dean looks up to meet Naomi’s gaze. She doesn’t look like she’s judging him or anything, but Dean still feels like shit.

“I—you can tell?”

“I’d be able to tell even if I was blind, Dean. You smell like the bottom of a barrell.”

Dean tries to sniff himself discreetly, only to scrunch up his nose when he realizes that she’s right. “I don’t have nightmares when I drink myself to sleep,” he offers as an excuse.

“I could prescribe you something to help with that. I also saw in Martin’s notes that you are – were – a recovering alcoholic. If you fell off the horse again, you might wanna think about joining a support group, like AA. But you have to want it.

“Don’t know,” Dean says, shrugging again. Of course he hates to be feeling like human waste, but the respite he gets when he blacks out from too much booze is something he had missed too much. It’s not like anyone’s there to care about what he does with his life anyway.

“That man you’re seeing, your brother’s adoptive father… doesn’t he mind that you started drinking again?”

“He left months ago. He’s an archeologist and he’s doing God knows what in Israel.”

“So you live alone?” she asks, flipping the pages of Dean’s file with a concentrated frown. “Did you tell Martin that? Don’t answer, it’s not important,” she adds as she takes some notes. “Does anyone know that you started drinking again?”

“Nope… not that there’s anyone to tell.”

She flips through the pages again before speaking. “How about Sonny? He’s the one who helped you the first time around.”

“He’s busy with the others kids and certainly doesn’t need the disappointment. He’s done all he could do.”

“I see.” She closes the folder on her lap and leans forward to look Dean in they eye. “Tell me, Dean… ever contemplated suicide?”

The abrupt subject change is enough to bristle Dean. He swallows hard, not sure what he could respond to that. “Well… doesn’t everybody think that at some point in their lives?”

“I don’t think so, no. And even if they do, I’m only interested in you right now. So… did you?”

“Before I got to Sonny’s, I kinda did, yeah. Not enough to try anything, but—”

“Thinking about it is enough, if you wanna know what I think. Do you still have suicidal thoughts?”

Dean feels his cheeks flush and he casts his head down, once more enraptured in the carpet design. “Sometimes I kinda wish I’ll go to sleep and never wake up. Or I imagine that I get in a car accident and just don’t come back from it. You know, getting crushed by a van…”

And as Naomi opens his folder again to take some more notes, Dean blinks away the tears threatening to spill and thinks about the alcohol he’ll be drinking tonight.

  

Two days later, he’s back at Hawkin’s Auto Shop. Hungover, if not still a little drunk.

Annie isn’t there yet, which leaves Gordon in charge. And that’s not so good for Dean. He knows he looks bad and probably smells like a bar, but he knows he can do his job. Except Gordon doesn’t seem to think so when he stands in front of him with his arms crossed.

“You’re drunk, Dean. You can’t work today!”

“M’not drunk… a little hungover, maybe, but not drunk!” Dean counters as he tries to walk past the other man.

“I don’t care what you say you are. Gimme your keys.”

Dean snickers, poking at Gordon’s chest. “Fuck you, Gordon! You’re not my boss, and you’re not getting my keys. I got here just fine, didn’t I?” he says in a snarl before throwing his keys toward the back of the garage. Which he regrets instantly. “Fuck! My keys! Look at what you made me do… now I gotta find my keys!”

Instead of helping, Gordon grabs Dean by the shoulders and starts leading him into the office. Except Dean won’t have it, evading the other man’s hold to turn around. “Gotta find my keys!” he screams this time, pushing Gordon out of his way.

Gordon pushes Dean back, making him almost tumble to the floor. With an enraged scream, Dean jumps on Gordon to clock him on the jaw. “You motherfucker!” he yells, punching again and again, not even minding that he’s getting punched just as much in return. Until he gets the upper hand and pushes Gordon to the ground, blocking his arms and chest by sitting on them.

As he keeps beating the other man up, Dean doesn’t see or hear anything other than the blood splatters on the concrete floor and the cracking of his fists on Gordon’s face. Until he feels himself flying backward, both his arms immobilized by unknown forces.

“Dean! Enough!” he hears someone yell. He knows he should listen, but he can’t, bent on freeing himself from whatever’s holding him. Until he doubles over and falls to his knees to puke his guts out.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

Sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest in one of Greece’s PD holding cells, Dean tries to get some shut eye. It doesn’t help that the guys sharing the confined space are being overly loud and obnoxious. The older one’s the worst, drunk out of his wits and very badly belting some rap version of _‘O Sole Mio_.

As a younger cellmate tries to make the wino shut up, Dean can’t help seeing his own future self in the old guy. Hiding his face on the arms crossed over his knees, Dean wonders if the man’s life is as empty as his. With nobody to love or no one to care that he lives or dies.

He gets startled by someone calling his name right when he’s about to doze off.

“Winchester! Someone posted bail, you’re out.”

He looks up to see one of the policemen that picked him up at Annie’s earlier that day. He nods and goes to reach the door that’s been opened for him, then follows him to the front. Seeing Sonny waiting for him comes as no surprise.

Dean forces himself to look at the older man, dropping his gaze when he recognizes the deception in his mentor’s eyes. They don’t greet each other, Sonny leading the way outside after Dean has signed the paperwork and got back his personal effects.

They make their way to Hilton without a word. Dean kinda hopes that Sonny is bringing him back to Brockport yet he can’t be surprised when he doesn’t. At this point, he’s expecting Sonny to just drop him off and drive away. It’s a bit of a shock to see his mentor follow him inside Castiel’s house.

“That’s a fancy coffee maker you’ve got there,” Sonny says when they get to the kitchen. “You know how that thing works? I’d like some.”

Dean nods and goes to prepare coffee while Sonny sits on one of the barstools. Neither of them say another word until they’re both sitting down with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Talk to me,” Sonny eventually says. He blows on his coffee, making the steam swirl.

Although he feels like he’d have a lot to say, Dean can’t find the words. He shrugs, worrying at his lower lip and looking at his own clasped hands.

“Do you miss him that much?” Sonny asks, sounding overly prudent.

At this point, Dean can’t be sure who Sonny’s referring to; is he talking about Sam or Cas? Not that it’s important because he misses the both of them equally. He’s finally able to speak, one painful word at a time.

“Both,” he says, hoping that Sonny will understand. “And nightmares,” he supplies again.

“That’s why you get the professional help, Dean. You should know better than to go and start drinking again. You know alcoholism can’t be cured, right? You’re hooked for life.”

“I know.”

“You’re back on the radar, Dean. Assault and battery, drunk and disorderly… you were clear, boy. What were you thinking?”

Dean shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you gotta apologize to, son. You could have killed Gordon if Annie hadn’t gotten there and flagged some guys from the street to help. You get that, right?”

Dean nods, contrite.

“In case you’d like to know, Gordon’s gonna be okay. He’s got a concussion, some cuts and bruises, but he’s not as bad as he could have been. Not much worse than you, which is probably what’s gonna help you in the end.”

“That’s good,” Dean says with a sigh. “Who brought my car over?”

“Annie towed it back here. She doesn’t wanna see your face around her shop ever again.”

They both fall silent, sipping on their coffees. Until Dean speaks again.

“I can’t live alone,” he admits under his breath. “Do you think—”

“I told you before, Dean. We’re at full capacity. And even if we weren’t, you’ve got a criminal record now and I have young kids under my responsibility.”

“You know I wouldn’t hurt the kids!”

Sonny sighs, shaking his head. “I never thought you’d go and beat up some guy either. You’re drinking again, Dean, I can’t have you around the children. Especially not if you’re going to have violent outbursts like this.”

“I would never—”

“But you did,” Sonny insists, giving him a pointed look. “I wanna help you, Dean, I really do. But you can’t be living at the home. Even if I had room for you, it’s the law. I could lose everything if we got caught. What you gotta do is get your act together. I’ll help, I’m not abandoning you, but I can’t be your guardian. Not anymore.”

Sonny gets up to refill their cups, but doesn’t sit back down. “I don’t think you should stay here either, Dean. This can’t be helping.”

“Where do you want me to go? I don’t even have a job no more.”

“You go out and find a new one, then you move out of here.” Sonny looks around and starts to open the cabinet doors. “Where is it?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. The booze, where is it?”

Dean points to a door at the bottom, next to the fridge. Sonny opens it and grabs the remaining bottles to put them on the counter. He lets out an impressed whistle when he sees Castiel’s expensive scotch. “Bags?” he asks again, making Dean point to the pantry.

Sonny grabs one of Castiel’s cloth grocery bags and puts the bottles in it. “Anymore hidden in the house?” he asks as he inspects the pantry carefully.

“No… I didn’t need to hide it,” Dean answers, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling up in his gut.

“Good! I’ll bring this all back to Cas when he comes home. Wanna give me that fake I.D. you’ve got too? I’d let you keep it, but I don’t think you’re strong enough to resist the urge.”

His eyes fixated on the bag, Dean nods although he’s not sure what he’s agreeing to. Still, some tiny part of his brain seems to know what’s happening because he sees himself giving his fake I.D. to Sonny. Other than that, all he hears is ‘drink!drink!drink!’ swirling around in his mind. He’s just so thirsty…

“All right, I’ll be going now. Try and keep out of trouble, would you? Or more trouble, that is. You don’t wanna make it too easy for Gordon to destroy you when he sues your ass.”

“Yeah…” is all Dean can answer. Right now he can only think about how far the closest liquor store is. He wants Sonny to leave already, leave him alone to live the shit life he’s built for himself.

“I’ll check up on you, Dean. You better make sure you don’t miss the court appearance, you hear? My ass is on the line too,” is the last thing Sonny says before going through the door. 

Knowing he’d better wait for Sonny to be far enough not to get caught, Dean pads to his room to pick up some fresh clothes, only to find he doesn’t have a single clean t-shirt. He goes through the messy pile on the floor to try and find something that doesn’t smell like death, without success.

After taking off what he’s currently wearing, he grabs everything and goes to drop it all in the washing machine downstairs. He starts it up and goes back upstairs, naked, to enter Castiel’s room. It’s not like he would mind that Dean borrowed a shirt, would he?

Sadly, it looks like he took most of his t-shirts with him. He goes into Cas’s ensuite, not surprised to find nothing is out of place. As a last resort, he checks under the man’s pillows and almost screams in victory when he finds one of the tees Cas sleeps in.

It’s torn in some places, with a large hole in the right armpit, but it doesn’t smell bad. Actually, it smells damn good, Castiel’s own scent still woven into the fabric. Deans chokes up as he buries his nose in the threadbare shirt. He’s tempted to just lie down on Cas’s bed to cuddle with the shirt and maybe hump his pillow, not wanting to go out anymore.

Yet, his thirst is too strong and he’s soon back to his own bathroom to take a shower, washing off the dried blood and grime. Later, as he drives out to the store wearing Cas’s shirt, he breathes deeply, getting a sense of the man being right there with him with every inhale. 

If only it had been enough to stop.

  

“Fuck, you smell good.”

“Dean?”

He hadn’t heard Castiel’s voice in so long that Dean feels his lips curl into a wide grin. “I miss you,” he says, trying to caress the other man’s face through the computer screen.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe… probably… most definitely,” Dean supplies, chuckling.

“Where did you get alcohol? Are you drinking my stuff?”

Dean puts a finger over his own lips. “Shhhh! Sonny took your booze, man. But he doesn’t know I bought more. I didn’t even need an I.D.” He sighs and pouts. “He doesn’t think I should be drinking. And I think he’s right.” Dean hiccups and laughs. “But it’s so good,” he slurs, stretching the last word until he hiccups again.

“Are you home?”

“I’m in your home. ‘Cause I got no home, did you know that? And I got no job. ‘Cause I’m a fuck up. I break everything I touch. I’m—”

“What happened, Dean? How did you lose your job?”

Dean’s expression turns sour, his lips drooping in a disgusted pout. “Why do you care? You left me.”

“Dean, we talked about this. You know it was the best thing for—”

“Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah! You decided to go! Told me on my fuckin’ birthday, too! You remember that, dont’cha? There was no dicsuss—dist—fuck! There was no talkin’.”

“I’d love for us to talk, but not like this. Call me back when you’ve sobered up,” Castiel says, making Dean erupt in laughter. “What?”

“There’s no sobering up, Cas. This feels like heaven… everything is so blurry… and soft… and nothing hurts anymore. And even when it does, I don’t give a shit. You should try it. Maybe you’d be less of an asshole.”

“I can’t talk to you like this,” Castiel says in a low growl. 

Yet, he doesn’t seem that eager to hang up. Dean smirks as he pulls Cas’s t-shirt over his head. He may have been wearing it for three days straight, it still smells like him.

“Dean,” Castiel breathes. “Don’t!”

A second later, Dean has his soft dick in hand, the head peaking at the bottom of the screen. “Peekaboo!” he says, only to start laughing again as he tries to jack off. He lets out exaggerated moans, pinching his nipple and licking his lips with his head thrown backward.

Dean glances at the screen again only to see that Castiel has ended the conversation. He lets his nipple go to press a key and call Cas again. He keeps rubbing himself as it rings, but Castiel never answers.

“Fuck you!” Dean spits before slamming the top of his computer shut. He lets his dick go, not in the mood anymore. Instead, he grabs the bottle of Jack he’s been drinking and gulps it down.

Seeing his phone next to the computer gives him another idea. He puts the now empty bottle in the bag – which he’s never bothered to bring to the kitchen – and takes a full one. After opening the new bottle, he thumbs through his phone to find Sam’s number.

Last time they saw each other, Sam had kinda smiled at him. It should mean that they’re good, right? Or at least, that’s what Dean’s alcohol soaked brain deduces. He selects his brother’s name and chugs down some more Jack as he waits.

When Sam doesn’t answer, Dean doesn’t even bother leaving a message and throws the phone which shatters on the opposing wall. He chuckles and leans back on the sofa.

“Fuck everyone,” he mutters as he brings the bottle to his lips again. He closes his eyes, savoring the burn in his mouth, all the way down his throat to his belly. The only thing that would make things even better is a warm mouth on his dick. If Cas was here, he’d be doing that for him. He’s quite the cocksucker. Dean chuckles again because cocksucker is a funny word.

Opening his eyes again, he grabs the pack of Pall Mall he bought. He takes a cigarette out and lights it with the hot pink Bic he got with it. He takes a long drag and almost purrs, finding the mix of tobacco and whiskey divine on his tongue.

He tops the ashes in a small ceramic bowl he found. Because of course, perfect Castiel Novak wouldn’t have ashtrays in his stupid house. Dean huffs at the thought and takes another exaggerated drag, only so he can drop some more ashes in the bowl. And when he’s done with that one, he lights up another one just because nobody can stop him.

  

Dean is floating in a dark lake and he doesn’t really remember getting there. Overhead, the sky is blue and the sun is blinding. He tries to look to the side, but as he does, the murky water gets into his nose and mouth. He feels something, maybe seaweed, taking a hold of his arms and legs to pull him down.

He wants to cry for help, but he can’t, not with the water flowing in his open mouth. He can’t even breathe anymore. He can only look as the sun disappears while he’s pulled into the freezing depth.

“Dean! Stop!” he hears. He tries to scream when hands fall on him to push him further down. “Help!” he hears again.

Soon, more hands grab at him, making it impossible for him to move, keeping him at the bottom of the lake. He’s cold, and he’s scared, and he’s fucking drowning. Until it feels like he’s being filled with warmth. He relaxes and opens his eyes to find strangers looking at him. The lake he’s been drowning into is nowhere to be seen.

“He should be okay now.”

The woman who spoke is wearing mint green scrubs. He’s in an hospital again. Next to her is a big guy wearing white scrubs; an orderly, most probably. He tries to speak, but finds that he can’t; something is jammed in his throat and he starts panicking again.

“Calm down, Dean. I’ll take the cannulas out.”

He gags as she pulls the tube from his throat. For a second, he thinks he’s gonna be sick, but he’s able to repress the urge as he takes deep cleansing breaths. He looks at his arms to find he’s hooked up. His dick too feels weird, as if…

“My dick?” he asks, not as panicked as he believes he should be. He must be on the good shit again.

“You got a catheter in there too,” the nurse explains as she lifts the sheet. “I’ll be taking it out now. Just try and relax, all right?”

She works quickly and as soon as she’s out of the room, someone else enters; someone Dean never thought he’d see again.

“Sam?”

“Hey, Dean!” the teenager says as he comes to sit on the chair next to the bed. Dean can’t help but notice that Sam is even taller now. Maybe even as tall as him.

“What doin’ here?”

“Sonny called, told us what happened.”

Dean tries to remember what might have happened for him to get here, without success. “Got shot?” he asks, making his brother sigh.

“No, you weren’t shot. You almost drank yourself to death, you jerk!”

“Shut u’, bitch!” Dean replies although there’s no bite to his tone, thanks to whatever’s dripping into his arm. And he smiles, because he just feels that good. “Why are you here? You hate me.”

“Hate is a strong word, Dean. I may be pissed, but I don’t want you to die.” 

“How Sonny know—I call him?”

Sam’s eyes on him have a dark edge when he answers. “It was my dad. My dad asked Sonny to check up on you because apparently you called him, super drunk.”

There’s a sharp pain in Dean’s brain when he tries to remember calling Cas. There are fleeting images and sounds somewhere in the back of his mind, but it’s all too fuzzy.

“Sonny came to Hilton and found you passed out in the living room. The carpet’s ruined.”

Dean drops his head, ashamed. “Sorry… I find other place, tell your dad.”

Sam’s lips are pinched thin. Dean hates this expression on him, he looks downright disgusted and judgemental. Not that he doesn’t have reasons to be.

“Still not talkin’ to him,” Sam says before getting up and landing a soft hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll let you sleep now. I’ll be back later, all right? We got a lot of stuff to talk about.”

“A’right, Sammy,” Dean manages to say although it feels like his mouth is being filled with cotton balls. “M’gonna see ya,” is the last thing he says before everything goes dark.

When he wakes up again, it’s a little bit before dinner is to be served. He remembers whatever crap they’d be giving him in Pontiac and he shudders, worried he’ll have to eat that same shit. So when he’s presented with chicken noodle soup, bread, and a mini-quiche with mashed potatoes and soggy green beans, it’s like heaven. It all tastes pretty bland, but at least he gets to chew on something.

He’s watching TV and minding his own business when he starts feeling weird. He’s sweating and shaking, his stomach is in knots. He knows what this is, he’s gone through it before. He presses the call button, hoping the nurse can give him something to dull the pain he knows will come.

  

If Dean had hoped his brother would be back that evening, instead he gets a visit from Sonny. He’s even brought Timmy with him. Seeing the kid looking at him with wide innocent eyes is almost enough to make Dean start bawling. Almost.

“How you doing’, kiddo?” he says around the lump in his throat.

“School is almost over,” Timmy chooses to say, a grave look on his face. “Did you have an accident?”

“Something like that,” Dean answers, pretty sure trying to explain the truth would just be difficult. For him to tell and for the kid to understand.

“I still have your phone,” Timmy says, showing the device he’s holding. “You never call me.”

Dean glances at Sonny, kind of hoping the man will help. But his closed off expression is something Dean knows a little too well; Sonny’s had enough of his shit.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’ve been kinda busy. Plus, my own phone’s broken.”

This time, Dean can’t help a tear to roll down his cheek when he sees Timmy’s chin tremble and his eyes fill with water.

“Don’t cry, little man, please.”

The child comes closer to bury his face in Dean’s chest. He also says something, but it’s too muffled for him or Sonny to understand a single word.

“What was that?” he asks, making the kid look up at him, his face now wet with tears and snot.

“I don’t want you to die,” he says, only to start sobbing harder and hide his face again.

More tears are now spilling from Dean’s own eyes. He dares to look up at Sonny again who’s not looking as composed anymore. Caressing the little boy’s hair, Dean swallows and clears his throat.

“I’m not dying, kiddo. I did stupid stuff, but I’m not gonna die. I promise.”


	22. Chapter 22

“I don’t need this shit.”

The colorful pamphlet is crackling between Dean’s trembling fingers. He could always try and pretend that he’s shaking from anger, but he knows it’s the lack of alcohol that’s really to blame.

“I think you do, Dean,” Sam answers, using his own copy of the pamphlet as a fan. “Not that you can be forced into anything, but if you don’t stop drinking, you’ll be dead before you can even legally buy booze.”

“Ha! Funny!”

“I’m not joking, Dean.”

Dean sighs and shakes his head. “So what’s this? An intervention?”

“Of course not. We think that you ending up here should be enough of an intervention.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“Us… me, both my dads, Rachel, Sonny—”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dean opens up the pamphlet. “Looks expensive,” he grouses. “Ain’t got this kind of money.”

“All you gotta do is get better, don’t you worry about the cost.”

“Easy for you to say… and how come it’s you who’s telling me about this crap? Are you here to give me that award-winning puppy eye thing just so I’ll cave?”

For the first time, there’s a ghost of a smile on Sam’s lips. “I’m not against using it if I need to.” He clears his throat, now fumbling with the paper in his hand. “Look, Dean… you and my dad together, that’s super weird, okay? I can’t lie about that. And Clark was so pissed—”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, okay? Cas is done—we’re done.”

Sam shrugs and nods. “Rachel’s amazing, did you know that?”

“I don’t really know her.”

“You’d think that she’s an angel or something. We’ve talked a lot since I’ve been living with them. It’s kinda like having a mom after all.”

“Is she the reason you’re talking to me now?”

“Let’s just say that it helps to get another perspective on things. She’s not wrong when she says that two consenting adults should be able to do whatever they want.” Sam does that thing the Novaks do, he clears his throat. “I still think it’s weird, but… if you guys love each other, I guess I shouldn’t stand in your way.”

“Like I said, we’re done, Sam. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

Sam nods once more, looking serious again as he turns to the window. “So… when are you getting out of here?”

“Not sure… today or tomorrow, according to the nurse.”

“My dad wants you to come back home until Sonny can bring you to Syracuse.”

“Syracuse?”

“The clinic?” Sam says, waving the pamphlet.

“Oh…”

All of a sudden, everything feels like it’s too much to handle. Dean knows that if he doesn’t get his act together, he’s gonna lose the little he’s got. Still, he’s scared out of his wits. His voice is raw and his chin is trembling when he speaks again.

“What if I can’t do it, Sammy? What if I can never stop drinking and messing everything up?”

“Like Sonny says, it’s best to take it—”

“One day at a time,” Dean completes for his brother. “Yeah, I know. But when all you got are shitty days, it makes it all that much harder. When your dad was here—”

“You know you can’t blame my dad for your shit, right?”

“I’m not… I’m the one with the problem here, I know this.”

Dean notices Sam glancing at his watch. “You don’t have to stay, Sam. I’ll be okay.”

“I know. It’s just that they said your doctor would come around between two and three this afternoon.”

“And what time is it now?”

“Almost two thirty.” Sam gets up and goes to take a peek in the hall. He turns to Dean, half standing outside the room. “I don’t see a doctor, but I’m thirsty as hell. I’ll go get a soda… want something?”

“Maybe a root beer? If they got any.”

“I’ll check. Be back soon,” Sam provides before disappearing in the hall.

Sam isn’t back from his soda run when a woman enters Dean’s room, holding a clipboard. If her white coat and stethoscope are anything to go by, she’s gotta be his doctor.

“Mr. Winchester, I’m Dr. Cara Roberts. Glad to meet you, conscious and all.”

She may be looking at him with half a smirk, she doesn’t really look amused. “You know you could have died, right?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

And yeah, there it is, the hard stare Dean has been expecting. “Are you telling me you would have preferred that I let you die? Did I waste my time and energy in saving you?”

Dean is no dummy. He knows that if he says yes, she won’t let him leave and send him to the psych ward. Without lying, he bends the truth. “No, I’m grateful that you helped me. I’ll be going here,” he adds, showing her the pamphlet he’s still holding.

She barely glances at it and nods. “You know, you’re lucky you’re so young. But if you keep going down that path—”

“I’ll die, I know… got the lecture already.”

“It’s not a lecture, Dean,” she says, her tone now icy. “It’s the plain truth. You keep drinking, you’ll die. Do you understand that?”

Casting his head down, Dean nods.

“Good! Do you have someone to bring you back home if I sign your leave today?”

“I’m here,” Sam says as he walks back into the room, two cans of soda in hand.

The doctor turns to look at Sam and smiles. “And you are?”

“His brother.”

Dean’s whole body fills with warmth at Sam’s prompt answer, no hesitation whatsoever. Maybe there’s hope after all.

“Can you even drive?” the doctor now asks Sam.

“I can, but we’re gonna be picked-up by a friend of the family. Just gotta call him if you say Dean can go.”

When the beautiful doctor gets closer to Sam, Dean feels a little weirded out. She looks like she’s right about to take a bite out of him. Now that’s what a predator would look like.

“He says he’ll be going to a clinic in Syracuse? Is this true?”

“If he wants to, yeah.”

“Good enough for me,” Dr. Roberts says with a smile and a light squeeze of Sam’s upper arm. She then grabs Dean’s chart to start scribbling on it. “He’s officially discharged.”

“Well that was creepy and a half,” Dean says after the woman has left the room.

“What?”

“Didn’t you notice? She wanted to get in your pants, man. Your underaged pants! Disgusting!”

Sam fiddles with his phone and puts it to his ear, not looking at Dean. “Now you see how the idea of you and my dad can be creepy as fuck! Oh, hey, Sonny!”

Dean can’t answer to that, pretty much choking on his own tongue. Which is just as well since Sam is busy with Sonny. They don’t say another word about Sam’s jab after he hangs up. Nor do they address it when the nurse comes to unhook Dean from the I.V., and not even while Dean puts clothes on.

“That’s not what I was wearing, pretty sure of it,” he says instead as he pulls the sweatpants up over his boxers.

“Like I said before, you ruined my dad’s carpet,” Sam says, keeping his eyes on his phone.

Dean doesn’t insist, pretty much able to imagine what could have happened to make his jeans unwearable. He had apparently hit the bottom of the barrell and had shat and pissed himself on Castiel’s expensive rug.

“Are you okay?” Sam asks. Dean only then realizes he’s started sniffling to try and keep the tears at bay.

“Yeah… m’fine.”

“Are you crying about the carpet?”

Bristled, Dean harrumphs and clears his throat. “I’m not crying,” he says, pulling a henley over his head, glad to have a reason not to be looking at his brother. The second he’s dressed, Sam comes in to hug him.

“It was an ugly carpet anyway, Dean,” is all his brother says as he holds him close.

It makes Dean laugh, but he can’t hold in a choked sob toward the end, making Sam squeeze him even harder. “It’s all right, Dean. You’ll be okay. You’re okay.”

  

Dean loses it again when Sonny comes to get them, taking Dean in his arms just like Sam had done. And although he hates to be crying still, he finds that he can’t help it. Whatever dam was keeping everything in had broken, making him a slobbery mess.

“When did you last see your therapist?” Sonny asks when they’re driving back to Hilton.

“A while ago… wasn’t feeling it too much.”

“Maybe you should go see him before you go to the clinic. You know, see what he has to say about all that’s happened.”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Got a new therapist, she’s a she.” Dean purses his lips, thinking back to their last – first – encounter. “I don’t like her, I’m not going back.”

Nobody speaks again until they reach Castiel’s home where a battered white Silverado is parked. The Impala is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s my car?” he asks with a squeak in his voice.

“Don’t worry, it’s in the garage,” Sam answers with a soft hand on his shoulder. Dean turns around, relieved, not even caring that his brother called his baby an it. “Is that your truck?”

“Rachel’s.”

Dean gulps, worried at the thought of being confronted with Clark again. He’s not sure he could handle that right now. Sam must have caught a glimpse of his worries because he squeezes his shoulder some more, reassuring.

“My dad’s not here… Clark,” he specifies. “Not that he hates you or anything, but he couldn’t take off work.”

“What about school?”

“Said I had a family emergency and most teachers just gave me whatever work I’d need to do this week.”

For a second time that day, Dean’s heart inflates with pride from Sam speaking of him as family. He might start to really believe it.

“What?” the younger Winchester asks. Smiling, Dean just shakes his head.

“Nothing… I’m just super stoked you’re here.”

“Are you boys coming or what?” they hear Sonny say. Dean looks up to see the man already out and walking toward the house. Both brothers chuckle and get out to follow him. When they get inside the house, they are greeted by a smiling Rachel.

“Hello, boys!” she says brightly before coming to take Dean in her arms. “Sweetheart, I’m so glad that you’re okay. You gave us the fright of our lives, you know that, right?”

Dean hugs the woman back even though he can’t really believe that they would have been that worried about him. Especially not Clark. And as if she’s got ESP or something, she leans back to softly take his face into her hands and smiles.

“Clark’s not mad at you, sweetheart. I’d rather he told you this himself, but he couldn’t be here. Maybe when he calls later, you can have a chat with him.” Dean must have had his doubts written all over his face because Rachel’s smile dies down a little. “I promise you, Dean. Clark doesn’t hate you. He’s actually grateful for everything you’ve done for Sam. For us,” she adds with a tender glance at Sam.

It’s almost enough to make Dean start bawling again, yet he manages to keep it in, thinking he’s cried enough for one day. Rachel kisses his cheek and lets him go before turning to Sonny.

“Are you staying for dinner? I made pot roast.”

“That’s really nice of you, Rachel, but I’d better go back home. Ruth’s alone with the kids and they just might be making her crazy right about now.” Sonny turns to Dean, a crooked smile on his lips. “I’ll be waiting for your call, Dean. I’ll drive you to the clinic whenever’s best for you.”

Dean nods, half hoping that life would just go back to what it was, before he fell off the horse and felt this constant need to drown himself in the booze. His mouth waters at the thought, making him almost cry again. His throat is tight when he answers. “The sooner the better.”

Sonny nods, understanding. He goes to hug Rachel and Sam before coming to stand before Dean. “I know you can beat this, kiddo. I’ve got faith in you,” the man murmurs before grabbing him in his arms. Dean lets out a choked sob.

“Man, y’all gotta stop makin’ me cry,” Dean says, his voice rough. He also tries to laugh it off, but there’s no heart in it. What he gets as a response is a kiss on the temple and a clap on the back before Sonny leaves him alone with Sam and his stepmother.

  

Rachel’s pot roast is out of this world and Dean can only be envious of his brother being treated to this kind of meals every day. It doesn’t matter that there are too many vegetables for his taste, the rich sauce certainly makes up for it. And anyway, he’s too hungry and grateful to really care and scarfs it all down in no time at all.

“So… when are you guys due back to Maine?”

Dean had been looking at Sam when he spoke, but it’s Rachel who answers.

“I’d love to say we’ll be staying until you’re ready to go to the clinic, but Sam needs to be back in school Monday. Which means we can’t stay later than Sunday morning. Even then we might not make it to Rockland before dinner.”

It’s Sam who asks the question Rachel has only hinted on. “And when do you wanna go to the clinic, Dean? You told Sonny the sooner, the better, but—”

“I’d love to spend at least a full day with you before I go,” Dean admits in a single breath, staring at his empty plate. “Like, tomorrow… I’ll ask Sonny to drive me to Syracuse Friday. Would that be okay?” He looks up to see the both of them smiling at him.

Rachel nods as she gets up to put some more meat and veggies on his plate. “Eat up,” she says, adding some more food to Sam’s plate as well. “You boys need all the vitamins you can get if you wanna grow big and strong.”

Her cheeks warm up when the brothers erupt in laughter, making her look much younger than she really is. For a second, Dean is reminded of his mom even though he doesn’t really have that many memories of her. It makes his heart sink.

“You okay?” Sam asks when Rachel has disappeared into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Dean assures his brother with a tight smile. “I’m just glad you’ve got Rachel in your life. She looks like an awesome mom.”

Sam doesn’t need to answer, his shining eyes speaking for him. “She’s amazing,” he offers. “Clark too is awesome. I wish I could have known them before.”

“You know that’s not your dad’s fault, right? Castiel, I mean.”

“I know… Clark keeps telling me that he’s the one to blame and to give Dad a break. We’ll see how it goes when he comes back from his trip.” Sam pushes his half finished plate away from him. “He asked about you,” he adds without looking at Dean.

“You talked to him?”

“No… Sonny did, he’s the one who told me. He says that my dad sounded real worried too.”

“Does he know about the rug?” Dean asks, sheepish. When they came in earlier, he noticed it wasn’t in the living room anymore.

“I’m sure he doesn’t care about that. He was worried about you.”

All Dean can think about is how if Cas was that worried, he’d be calling him. Then he remembers destroying his phone. “Damn… I’m gonna have to go in town tomorrow, gotta buy a new phone.”

“I grabbed your sim card from the wreckage. It might still work.”

“Oh… that’d be great. Gonna come with?”

Sam’s blinding smile makes Dean get all fuzzy inside for the third time that day. “Of course. Can we go to Cus’s too? It’s been a while.”

“I’d love nothing more.” Dean has a thought for Sam’s stepmother and smiles. “Maybe we could bring Rachel along? You think she’d like that?”

And yeah, this is slowly turning into some kind of lame _Lifetime_ movie. “That’d be great. I didn’t wanna ask ‘cause I thought you’d want us to be alone.”

“We’ll find time to chat alone tomorrow,” Dean says as he looks up at the door leading to the kitchen. “I think she’s left us alone right now for that very reason.”

Which has to be why they spend a long time in the cocoon of the dining room, talking about what’s been going on since Sam left. Dean himself doesn’t have much to share, especially since he’s not about to talk about his non-relationship with Castiel. So he mostly listens, increasingly proud of his little brother’s new take on life.

Sam speaks of school and how he’s met some really cool people – especially Kevin, some bright kid that’s a year ahead of him although he’s two years younger. He also talks a lot about this one girl in his class and how she’s literally Ruby’s opposite; Jessica is blonde and tall, but mostly she’s sweet, funny, and really down-to-earth.

“You’re gonna ask her out?”

“I already did,” Sam admits after clearing his throat. “Her parents are pretty strict and she can’t go on dates until the school year is over. But she said yes anyway and we’re going to the movies the evening after we’re done with school.”

“When’s that? In a month?”

“Thirty-six days from now.”

“Not that anyone’s counting,” Dean says with a smirk, making Sam chuckle.

Silence falls on them, but it’s far from uncomfortable. For the first time in a long time, Dean feels like he’s where he’s supposed to be.

“Do you boys have room for dessert?” they hear Rachel call through the door. “I’ve got some fruit salad and vanilla ice cream.”

Dean can’t scrunching his nose at the idea of eating fruits, but he has to admit that the ice cream is pretty tempting.

“Imagine there was a pie crust in there at some point,” Sam says in a low voice. “Sounds great, Rachel, we’re coming,” he says louder as he gets up and grabs his dirty plate and utensils.

Dean does the same and they both walk into the kitchen to drop everything in the dishwasher. Rachel is just finishing up preparing bowls for the three of them.

“The weather’s nice… I was thinking we could go on the patio, look out at the water while we eat.” She buries a spoon in each dessert and smiles. “I know we’ve only been away from home for three days, but I miss the ocean so much.” She looks up at the brothers, blushing again. “And Clark… I miss Clark too, of course,” she says before rushing out of the kitchen, making Sam and Dean chuckle.

They follow her outside and take place on wicker chairs, facing the lake. It is wide enough that they can’t see the other side, making them feel like they’re actually watching the night fall over the ocean. And as the sky gets darker, Dean realizes that the whole time that he’s been here, he hasn’t been enjoying the view at all.

“It’s so beautiful,” he says under his breath as he looks up. It’s like the stars are getting lit up one by one, getting brighter with every passing second.

They stay outside for a while, the only noises being the water hitting the bank and the spoons scraping the bottom of the bowls. Nobody speaks again, their gazes lost upward for the better part of the next hour.

“I don’t know about you boys, but I’m going to bed,” Rachel announces as she gets up and stretches. Dean looks at his watch to see it’s already close to eleven o’clock. “Don’t forget to lock the door when you come back in?” she asks before wishing them good night and going in.

“Didn’t think it was this late,” Dean says, looking up again, secretly hoping to see something moving, like a falling star. Or a UFO. That’d be awesome.

“Yeah… maybe we should go to bed too. We got some stuff to do tomorrow. Do you wanna go see the boys at Sonny’s before you go? Pretty sure Timmy would love to see you. And the others too.”

With his heart sinking in his chest, Dean shakes his head. “Don’t think I can go, Sam. Sonny says that with my brand new criminal record, I can’t go back there.”

“Yeah, you can’t go and live there, but I don’t think going for a visit would be a problem.”

Dean keeps his burning eyes skyward. “I just think it’s better that I don’t go back.”

Sam’s large hand lands on his shoulder with a loud clap. “Tomorrow, we’ll call Sonny and tell him that you wanna leave Friday. Then we’ll ask him if you can come by for a visit. I’m sure it’s gonna be okay.”

And when he sees Dean about to reply, Sam cuts him off, smiling. “Good talk, Dean. 'Night!” he says before walking back into the house, leaving Dean alone to grumble about how little brothers can be the most annoying thing in the world.

Then he smiles…


	23. Chapter 23

Contrary to Dean’s initial beliefs, the three months he spends at the rehabilitation center go by quickly. At first, when he learned his friends had paid for such a long stay, he was pissed as hell. Especially when he saw people that had come in around the same time as him be sent back home after a month or so.

When he hit the end of the second month, he had made peace with it. He had finally come to terms with the fact that he needed all the help he could get. And that was all thanks to Dr. Erica Cartwright.

“She’s awesome,” Dean gushes to Charlie during one of his weekly phone calls. He’d usually be calling Sonny or Sam, but he really needs to hear his best friend’s voice right now.

“Is she pretty?”

“You know it. That’s not why she’s awesome, though. She’s really helping me out.”

“You sound much better than the last time we spoke.”

Dean chuckles, pleased by Charlie’s words. “According to her, the root of my troubles is an abandoned child syndrome or something. Doesn’t matter that I told her I knew that my parents actually died. She says my four year old brain wouldn’t have known the difference.”

He hears Charlie huff on the line. “Makes total sense. Never being adopted probably didn’t help either.”

“That’s her take on it, yeah. Then all that shit with Sam leaving, and Cas leaving, and Sonny not letting me come back… even my first therapist left me, or that’s how my stupid brain probably understands it.”

“Your brain’s not stupid, Dean. You may have mental issues to resolve, but you’re far from stupid. I saw your grades; you’re crazy smart, just as much as Sam.”

“When the hell did you ever see my grades?”

“I had just given you my number, dude. I had to know if you’d try and kill me in my sleep,” she says between giggles.

“You did a background check on me? I’m hurt, Bradbury!”

“Yeah! Love you too, doofus. Now, tell me more about that awesome shrink of yours.”

  

The night before his departure from the clinic, Dean can hardly get any shut-eye he’s so excited. He may have come to appreciate the place and its people, but he still can’t wait to start on this new life of his. He’ll need to find a job and a new place to live, but he’s not nervous about that – not anymore. If Annie won’t give him any good references, he knows Bobby and Ellen will.

He waits until he hears his roommate stir out of sleep before getting up. The guy had admitted himself to the clinic almost a month ago for the same problem as Dean.

“Good morning, Chuck!” he says, apparently a little too brightly for the bearded man who just groans and hides under his blanket. “You need to use the bathroom?”

All that answers Dean is some kind of undecipherable grunt, which he takes for a negative. He grabs the clothes he had prepared the night before and pads to the bathroom. He’s back in the room ten minutes later, all clean and ready to go.

“Come on, Chuck! It’s my last day, come have breakfast with me.”

“Not hungry…”

“Please,” Dean begs, sitting on the other man’s mattress to bounce up and down. When Chuck pushes him off his bed, Dean lands on the floor and erupts in laughter. “All right, all right, I’ll leave you alone. Hope to see you before I go.”

When Dean reaches the dining room, there’s already half a dozen people having breakfast, none of whom he’s particularly close with. It’s not until he’s seated with a plate full of blueberry pancakes soaked in syrup that he gets some company.

“Hi, Dean. Is this seat taken?” he hears, a little too close to his ear.

Without waiting for him to answer, Chuck’s sister sits down with her own breakfast tray.

“Hey, Amara. You’re up early.”

“Well, it’s your last day, isn’t it? I wanted to make sure I’d get to see you before you left.” She’s looking at him intently as she picks a grape from her plate and starts sucking on it. “I’m gonna miss you, you know?”

Dean makes sure to chew his food loudly, hoping it will drive her away. He should know by now that she can’t be discouraged that easily. “I’ll miss everyone too,” he makes sure to reply. He doesn’t want to give her a single drop of hope by being too friendly – he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“You’ll have to give me your number, for when I get out of here. We could go out, have a drin—go get coffee or something.”

“Amara, would you leave the boy alone?” Chuck grouses as he comes to sit at their table with a single cup of black coffee. “He’s young enough to be your son!”

“So? You should know that a woman’s sexual peak happens much later than a man’s. I’d say the timing is just right,” she counters before plopping a piece of banana in her mouth, her gaze never leaving Dean’s.

Ignoring her blatant flirting, Dean clasps a hand on Chuck’s shoulder, startling him. “I’m glad you got up, Chuck. Means a lot!”

“Of course… just needed a second to wake up properly.” He glances and huffs at his sister who’s still ogling Dean as she eats her fruit salad. “Sorry about her,” he adds for Dean who just shrugs and smile. “So, when are you leaving?”

“When my ride gets here. Around ten, maybe?”

Chuck takes a look at his watch and smiles. “You should be free within the hour then. Who’s picking you up?”

“My friend Sonny. Kinda hoping he’s gonna let me stay at his place for a little while. Just until I find a new job and place to live.”

“I’m sure he will. The way you talked about him in group, he sounds like a great guy.”

“He really is.”

“If you don’t have somewhere to live, you could always go to my place,” Amara says. “Or even Chuck’s—”

“Amara!” her brother warns her, obviously not too keen on the idea, which Dean totally understands.

Dean pats him again on the shoulder and smiles. “Nah, don’t worry… that’s real nice and all, but I’ll manage just fine. Plus, Chuck told me where you guys were from and it’s too far from Brockport. I still got a life over there, you know?”

Amara doesn’t even try hiding her disappointment when she gets up, pushing her chair back noisily. “Fine! I can take a hint,” she spits as she walks to another table with her tray.

“Sorry about her, Dean. She’s got some issues.”

“Well, she’s not the only one. We’re all here for a reason.”

“The thing is, she’s kinda here under false pretenses,” Chuck admits under his breath, surveilling the room to make sure nobody’s listening. “See, we’ve been estranged for a long time and… well… we only reconnected last year and when I told her I felt the need to work on my drinking problem, she checked herself in so we’d be together.”

“Wow… that’s—”

“I know!” Chuck glances at his sister again, unable to repress his lips from quirking up. “I’m actually pretty flattered that she’d wanna do this with me, but I kinda wish she’d work on her own issues while she’s here. And believe me, it’s not booze.”

“Sex addiction?” Dean asks, finding it could fit the flirtatious woman to a T.

“Not sure if it can be called that. She does have some issues in the relationship area, that’s for sure. Just not convinced it can be dealt with here.”

Were he really interested in Amara’s wellness, Dean could have pointed out to her brother how he himself had been getting help with his own mental issues. Still, he keeps it all to himself, not ready to start sharing too much of his personal history with Chuck.

Especially not since the guy admitted he intended on getting inspiration for his next book from the patients of the clinic.

 

  

Seeing the Impala roll up the driveway makes Dean’s heart sing. Until he sees who’s driving. It feels like his whole chest is going hollow.

“Where’s Sonny?” Dean asks when Castiel steps out of the car. “And how come you’re driving my baby?”

Castiel is all smiles as he comes to hug Dean who’s too stunned to reciprocate. The man grabs the duffel at Dean’s feet and gives him the keys. “I thought you’d like to drive her back home,” he says before going to put the bag in the trunk.

When Cas sits in the passenger seat, Dean is still standing at the bottom of the stairs with his arms hanging at his sides. Castiel rolls the window down, still smiling. “Are you going to stay there all day?”

It’s enough to shake Dean out of his daze and he goes around the car, dangling the keys. “Where’s Sonny?” he asks again after sitting behind the wheel.

“At his place, I imagine.”

Dean can feel the older man’s stare on him, but he keeps his own eyes forward. He starts the car and drives off, his foot a little heavy on the pedal.

“How are you feeling, Dean?” he hears Castiel ask. Dean is somewhat tempted to turn the volume of the radio up so they won’t have to talk.

“I’m fine,” he answers instead, which is actually the truth for once. He’s not great, but he’s not bad either. He’s fine. “When did you come back from Israel?” he hears himself ask. Dammit, he didn’t want to act interested at all.

“Six weeks ago. I would have come back earlier… actually, I almost jumped on a plane when I learned about what happened to you, but Sonny begged me to stay away. He said you had to work on your issues and that I would only be distracting you.”

For the first time, Dean looks at Castiel. Only for a second because he’s driving, but it’s enough to feel himself start caving. Still, he’s not ready to talk about anything too personal. “Did you find interesting stuff on your trip?”

“Nothing major, no. We’ve dug up some artifacts, but it’s nothing we hadn’t expected.”

Keeping his eyes on the road, Dean nods as he tries to find other things to talk about. He can’t think of anything other than Sam, or Clark, or even himself.

When he fails to find something and just keeps quiet, Castiel does the same and they make their way back to Hilton in silence. Dean parks the car in the driveway, but doesn’t turn the engine off. Castiel steps out without a word and goes to the trunk to grab Dean’s bag.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks as the man walks toward the house with his stuff.

“Going inside… now turn off the car and come.”

“I’m going back to Sonny’s!” Dean says, although he’s not so sure he would be welcome after all.

Castiel is still smiling when he walks back to the car and opens Dean’s door. Starting to find this all a little weird, Dean makes sure to keep an eye on Cas as he turns the engine off and gets out.

“Okay, what’s with the smiling? You’re creeping me out, man!”

“I’m happy you’re home, that’s all. And the situation at Sonny’s hasn’t changed, he says he’s got no room for you.”

“I’ll go to a motel, then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean,” Castiel says as he pushes the door closed and grabs Dean’s hand to pull him forward. Dean huffs, but lets himself be led inside. The house looks the same, save for the new rug in the living room.

Castiel drops the duffel on the floor and lets Dean’s hand go. “You should know that we are expected at Sonny’s tomorrow for dinner. They wanted to do this today, but I thought you might like to settle in first. Would you like to go to Cus’s tonight? I know you love the—”

“What the hell is going on, Cas?” Dean asks through gritted teeth. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“How do you mean?”

“You’re acting as if—like—dude! It’s like we’re together or some shit and you’re treating me as if I just got back from vacation. I can’t stay here, this is not my home, Cas!”

“I know you weren’t on vacation—”

“I don’t belong here, all right? I can’t go through this shit again.”

“What shit?”

“This,” Dean says, waving a hand between the two of them. “Us… we’re done!”

“We are?” Castiel looks genuinely puzzled with his eyes squinted and his head tilted. “I don’t remember us breaking up, Dean.”

“You son of a bitch!” Dean spits, throwing his arms up in frustration. “You fucking left, Cas. You let me stay here to babysit your stupid house – that didn’t go so well seeing how I ruined your ugly carpet. And you’re right when you say that we didn’t break up.” Dean walks up to the other man to start poking him in the chest. “We never were together, man. That’s why we didn’t break up.”

When Castiel grabs the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss, Dean fights it by leaning backward. “Whatever happened between us is done Cas. Get that through your thick skull!” he says in a growl before evading the man’s grasp. “I won’t let myself fall back in love with you only to be abandoned again.”

Without waiting for Cas to retort, Dean grabs his bag and stomps out to get in his car. He sees the door open on Cas as he starts the engine, swiftly backing onto the street without even looking. He hears Castiel shout at him, but he can’t make out the words. He flees, not knowing where he should be driving to.

His phone soon starts to ring, then chimes from receiving a text, then rings again. It keeps happening and he keeps ignoring it, not in the mood to get lectured by anyone; not by Sonny and certainly not by Castiel.

It takes him some time to decide where he should be going. He’s only five minutes away from Sonny’s place when he takes a different route to drive West on the 104. A little over two hours later, he’s unlocking the door of his motel room in Niagara Falls, NY.

He flings his duffel on the king size bed before going through the groceries he bought on his way into town. He takes out bread and PB&J, a bag of chips, and a pecan pie – doesn’t matter that it’s the supermarket kind. He takes out the six-pack of root beer to shove them in the mini fridge, then does the same with the sixer of El Sol.

It takes him a couple of minutes to shut the door, his eyes fixated on the golden brew. He takes a deep breath and chooses a root beer, barely hesitating as he does. He mentally pats himself on the back then takes the bag of chips too. He leaves the rest of the food on the small table to go lie on the bed and watch TV.

He’s in the middle of his fifth tour of channel surfing when he hears loud knocks on the door.

“Don’t need anything,” he calls out, convinced it’s the maid.

Instead of going away, they knock again. Dean groans as he gets up, grabbing the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the way. He opens the door, ready to tell the maid to get lost, but all that comes out is a graceless squeak.

“Hello, Dean.”

Castiel doesn’t wait to be invited and walks in while Dean stands there with his mouth agape. The older man takes the sign from his hand and puts it on the handle before shutting the door.

“How…” is all Dean can say before swallowing with a click. He wants to try asking again, but Castiel is already answering.

“Did you really think I’d let you leave like that? I was worried you’d get into trouble.”

Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to forget about the beer in the fridge. He only bought it to prove himself that he could resist drinking it, but he never thought Cas would barge in to confront him.

“Yeah, because that’s all I do, right? I get into trouble? Make shit decisions? Wanna see a shit decision?” Dean says as he goes to open the fridge and take the beers out. “Here’s the trouble I’m getting into! Satisfied?”

  

Castiel’s face falls. “Dean… you just got out of rehab.”

“Yeah, I did.” He points to the open can of root beer. “And I’m here drinking soda because I chose to. Even though I have beer in the fridge. Just because I wanna prove to myself that I’m strong enough.”

“Of course you’re strong enough.”

“Excuse me if I don’t believe you when you say that. A second ago you were ready to think I had started drinking again.”

With a sigh, Castiel goes to sit on the bed. He’s not looking at Dean anymore when he clears his throat. “You’re right, I was. You have to admit that it kinda looked bad, though.”

“Maybe… you didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”

The stare that Castiel lands on Dean is a sad one. “Loving someone doesn’t mean that you can’t see what they’re doing wrong, Dean. I like to think that it at least gives you the right to say something about it.”

Dean sits next to him, not close enough to touch, looking down at the carpet.

“Why Niagara Falls?” Castiel asks, as if only to cut through the silence. Dean is almost grateful for that.

“Dunno… I like the place, thought I’d go get soaked tomorrow. Then maybe I’d look for a job… lots of restaurant and stuff here. If I don’t find anything here, there’s Buffalo close by.”

Castiel hums and turns to Dean who keeps his eyes on his feet. “What about school? Thought you wanted to go to college at some point?”

“Too expensive.”

“I could help—”

Dean can’t hide the fury in his eyes when he looks at Cas. “You guys already paid for my stint in rehab, I’m not accepting anymore money, not from any of you! I don’t need your fucking pity!”

“Dean, it has nothing to do with pity, I assure you. I have money, why not use it to help you out?”

Dean goes back to staring at the carpet, fighting against the heat in his eyes. “You should go, Cas. You can even take the beer if you’re worried that I’ll drink it, I don’t care. Actually, I think you’d better take it. M’not doing as good as I was before.”

“Dean—”

“Please, Cas… can’t you get that I’m done with you?”

“At the house you said you loved me.”

“I did… once… and it blew up in my face. I can’t go back there.”

Dean doesn’t dare looking up when he feels Castiel get off the bed. For a second, he’s scared that the man will try to touch him. Which is scary only because he knows he wouldn’t be able to refuse him. The touch never comes and instead, he hears Cas walk over to the fridge.

“I wouldn’t want to force you into anything, Dean,” Cas says as he grabs the beer. “And I’m only taking these because you asked me… otherwise, I wouldn’t.”

The man walks back to the door, Dean still not looking at him. “Please make sure that you give Sonny a call if you haven’t already. He’s worried sick about you.”

The door opens.

“I know you might not believe me, or even care, but I wasn’t lying earlier. I love you, Dean. I really do,” Castiel says before closing the door, leaving Dean alone once more.

The sob Dean lets out as he falls backward on the bed is loud and wretched. He grabs a pillow and punches it until he’s too tired and hides his face in it to cry himself to sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

The next morning, Dean certainly isn’t expecting to see Castiel having breakfast in the motel’s lobby, which also holds the breakfast bar. Yet there he is, drinking coffee and eating toast while reading the morning paper.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks in a low hiss, trying not to make a scene.

The man barely glances at him as he takes a sip of his coffee then slowly puts back the cup on the table. “I’m having breakfast, I’d think it’s obvious.”

“Don’t you be cute, Cas,” Dean says as he takes one of the chairs for himself, making the legs scrape on the floor. “Why aren’t you back in Hilton?”

Castiel shrugs, his eyes fixated on the newspaper he’s holding. “I’ve never seen Niagara Falls so I thought I’d do that.” He finally looks up and smiles. “You don’t mind, do you?”

With his jaw tight, Dean just glares at him and gets back on his feet – he may be hungry as hell, but he’s certainly not about to share a meal with the man. Only because he knows what’s gonna happen if he does; they’ll end up sitting together, then they’ll speak, then he or Cas will make a move, any move. The kind of move that would send them spiralling into the abyss again.

Instead he jumps in the Impala, making the tires screech as he leaves. He had passed some kind of diner on his way into town the day before so he drives back there, his stomach rumbling as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He tries to remember when was the last time he actually ate. It had to be at the clinic the previous morning, where he shared breakfast with Chuck and Amara. Snacking on chips as he watched TV the night before didn’t really count.

The diner is a bit on the shady side, but Dean doesn’t care so much. He goes in and sits at the counter – both because he’s alone and because it looks cleaner than any of the actual tables. A cup of coffee is noisily dropped in front of him. He doesn’t object and looks up at the waitress to nod in thanks. The short brunette barely acknowledges him, snapping her gum as she gives him a sticky plastic menu.

“Whatcha gonna have?”

Dean glances at her name tag. “Say, Meg… d’you have any kind of specials this fine morning?”

She gives him an unimpressed look and points at the menu he’s holding. “It’s all in there, sweet cheeks. And it’s all special! Only for you,” she scoffs before walking away.

Rather than being annoyed by the waitress’s dismissive ways, Dean actually finds it quite amusing. If nothing else, it’s a nice distraction from the shit morning he’s been having.

“What do you recommend?” he asks when she comes back, making her huff and roll her eyes.

“I don’t get payed enough to be a consultant on top of tending to your sorry ass.”

 _No, but if you weren’t this shitty, you’d get a better tip_ , Dean thinks for himself. He’s sure that if he were to try and confront her, he’d get his breakfast seasoned with some sort of bodily fluid, so he ignores it.

“All right, gimme two eggs, over easy, with bacon and hash browns. Crispy bacon, please.”

Meg purses her lips as she writes it all down on her pad. She rips the note off to pin it on the order wheel. Then she justs leans back to start filing her nails, snapping loudly on her bubble gum.

“Want my picture? Gonna last longer,” she says after a while, making Dean realize he’d been staring.

“Nah, I’m good. Had my head in the clouds, sorry.”

The kitchen bell soon rings, making the waitress sigh as she moves to grab Dean’s breakfast. When she drops the plate in front of him, he can’t help but notice how the eggs look overcooked while the bacon is far from crispy. Still, he doesn’t say a word about it and drowns everything in ketchup.

What started as a shitty morning looks like it’s leading into a shitty day.

 

  

When he gets to the observation deck, Dean can’t help feeling a little underwhelmed. However often he’s come here, the Falls are never as impressive as all the pictures he saw. He sees the tall buildings in the distance, reminding him about what Sonny once said; how the Falls are much more impressive from the Canadian side.

He walks around among the other tourists, most of them taking pictures or videos. He goes to stand at the very end of the platform, trying to decide what to do next. He could pay for a tour on the boat, like the one he sees going toward the bigger falls. According to the pamphlet, it’s only twenty bucks.

Still, he decides that even twenty bucks would be too much, especially since he had to drop ten for parking. Instead, he leaves the observation tower to reach a lookout point a little further away. There are coin operated binoculars, but Dean doesn’t use them, instead leaning onto the railing to look down.

There are tourists walking around below, some wearing those blue plastic ponchos – he kind of thinks they look stupid until a gust of wind sends some of the mist his way. Luckily, it’s warm enough and the sky is of the purest blue, without a single cloud. The next time he gets some mist on him, he welcomes it. He’s content, eyes closed, facing the water and breathing deeply. He’s almost able to forget there are people moving around him.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?”

At first, Dean refuses to believe that the voice really belongs to Castiel. He takes a deep calming breath, trying to convince himself that it’s just some other dude that sounds awfully like him.

“Had I known it was this beautiful, I would have come sooner.”

This time, Dean can’t ignore the voice or who it belongs to.

“You following me?” he grouses, his eyes still shut tight.

“If you consider that I got here before you did, I’d say that you’re the one following me.”

Dean turns to Castiel who’s wearing one of those stupid blue ponchos. He has to bite his lower lip not to laugh. “You knew I’d be here. I told you yesterday.”

“And it was a great idea. Told you this morning I’d be seeing them myself,” Castiel agrees with a nod and a smile.

There’s some part of Dean’s brain that just wants to run and jump in the river. Thankfully, Dean is able to disregard the urge, shoving his clenched fists in his pockets.

“What do you want, Cas?”

Castiel’s answer sounds so raw and true that it makes Dean’s throat go dry.

“All I want is you, Dean.”

Dean turns to face Castiel, shaking his head. “How can you say that? We tried that before, at least I thought we did… didn’t work out so well.”

“I was an idiot. Thought I was doing the right thing by not letting you get too attached.”

“Not get too attached? When? When you fucked me every single night before going back to your bed? That was you keeping your distance?”

From the corner of his eyes, Dean notices a woman sending him a dark glare as she walks away, pulling her two young kids behind her. When he talks again, he’s standing closer to Cas and speaking much lower.

“I was in it, Cas… like… one hundred percent. Then you sent me back to the guest room for no good reason. You still wanted to fuck and stuff, though… pretty much started to feel like a whore too.”

When Castiel speaks, Dean can hardly hear him over the rush of the water and wrinkling of his plastic coat. His eyes are wet and oddly reminiscent of the depths below.

“I was protecting myself, all right? I was falling so hard for you, and you’re so young, and I missed Sam, and—”

“Did you guys talk at all since you’ve been back?”

There’s a flicker of confusion in Castiel’s eyes, but he still goes with it. “Yes, we did. He came to spend a week at home with me before school started. We talked.”

“And? Are you guys good now?”

“I think so, yes. He still chose to stay with Clark and Rachel, though. He’s got a new girlfriend – pretty sure she’s the main reason he’s not coming back. Her name is Jessica.”

Dean nods, already knowing about Jessica and how gone his little brother is on her.

“And he said he won’t stand in our way if we were to be together,” he adds as he tries to grab Dean’s arm who evades the touch.

“How can I believe that you won’t be shutting me out like you did before? You didn’t do this just once, Cas. You did it three fucking times.” Anger bubbles up in his gut when he sees Castiel looking back at him with confusion.

“First time we ever—”

“Dean! I really think here’s not the right place to talk about all this,” Castiel says, looking around them as the amount of people walking around increases. “Let’s go back to the motel.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Dean replies.

The hurt in Castiel’s eyes is unmistakable, but Dean can’t afford to care right now. They stare at one another for some time. One of them should start talking except Dean refuses to be the one to do it.

“So… what was that you were saying? I’ve shut you out three times?”

Dean tries to swallow, wishing he had something to drink; his throat is too damn dry and it makes him sound like a toad when he finally speaks.

“Do you seriously don’t remember?”

“I do, but I want you to tell me. I want you to tell me everything I’ve done wrong and then I want you to let me apologize.”

Dean’s jaw snaps as he braces himself so he won’t cry. Because he’s right about to start, equally out of grief and anger.

“First time we ever got together, in Pontiac. You started it, Cas! Then you fucking threw me out and ignored me for weeks.”

Dean stops talking, half expecting the other man to start explaining himself, but he doesn’t. Castiel just keeps looking at him, his expression open and serious.

“Then, still in Pontiac, after Sam left with Ruby. The shit you told me…”

Again, he stops and waits, hoping to get something back from Cas. The man just looks at him, his eyes never leaving his.

“And, well… then you did what you did, and you fucking left,” Dean concludes in a rough voice, dropping his head down because he can’t look at him anymore. He had been able to convince himself that it didn’t hurt anymore. What a crock of shit! “I really thought we were for real, man. Right up until after Christmas. Then you just… let go.”

Castiel takes a step forward and lifts up Dean’s chin so he could lock their eyes together again. “So… that’s three times,” is all he says, making Dean’s blood start to boil again.

“That’s all you gotta say to me? So that’s three times?”

“I’m agreeing with you.”

They stay silent for a little while, Castiel clearing his throat every few seconds while Dean fights against the tears. “I know you may not believe me, but… from the very start, I knew I wanted you. Even when I didn’t know how old you really were. And it freaked me out so much. And, yeah… nineteen still felt weird to me.”

“I’m twenty now.”

“Still half my age. And although I was falling deeper and deeper in love with you, I didn’t feel I had the right to keep you from living your life.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re twenty years old, Dean. You should be going to college, sleeping around, falling in love every other week. You can’t settle down to live like an old man… with an old man.”

Dean chuckles at the imagery. “Cas, I know I haven’t said much about my life, but I did all that. Well, not college, obviously… I ended up at Sonny’s for a reason, man. My youth, I lived it, just much earlier than most.”

There’s a shy smile gracing Castiel’s lips. “You are mature for your age, I’ll give you that. Which may actually explain—”

Whatever Castiel may have been about to say dies on his tongue when Dean grabs the poncho’s hood to pull it off the man’s head. “That thing looks ridiculous,” Dean says under his breath. As he takes back his hands, he can’t help but brush the other man’s stubbled jaw. It’s subtle, but Castiel still bristles under the touch.

“Dean…”

“You hurt me, Cas. You hurt me so damn much.”

Although he’s tempted to back away, Dean can’t move when Castiel casts his head down to lean his forehead against his shoulder. “I know. I’m so sorry, Dean. I want to spend my life making it up to you.”

And when Castiel’s arms snake around his waist, Dean is wounded up so tight that he’s afraid he’s going to snap. “How do I know you won’t toss me aside again?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“I wish I could promise that we’ll be together forever, Dean… I really do. But I can’t, and neither can you.” Castiel looks up again and lands a soft hand on Dean’s cheek. “All I can say for sure is that however far I try to run, I can’t get rid of my love for you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“You never called.”

“I thought I was setting you free.”

The words fall out of Dean’s mouth before he can stop them. “I can never be free of you.”

The next second, the men are kissing, Dean unsure of who leaned in first. He decides it’s not that important as he relishes in the warmth of the mouth on his. God, he’s missed Cas so damn much. It takes cat calls and giggles to remind them where they are, forcing them to separate.

Castiel slides a teasing hand down Dean’s arm to grab his hand. “Come on, my love. Let’s go back home.”

  

“Would you stop being so gross?”

Dean grins at his brother before kissing Castiel’s cheek again. “Can’t help it, man.”

“Ugh,” Sam replies. He scoffs and rolls his eyes before lifting the menu in front of his face.

“Let’s have a nice torture-free breakfast, all right?” Castiel says, trying hard not to smile. “We’ll behave, Sam,” he promises without letting go of Dean’s hand. “What are you having, honey?”

And although they’ve been together for over six months now, Dean still gets a faint blush at Castiel’s favored pet name for him. “Everything looks awesome. Just not sure if I want eggs or pancakes.”

“They have a plate with both. And bacon,” Castiel says, pointing out the dish on Dean’s own menu. “I just might take that myself.” Dean nods, tempted to just dip and catch that finger with his mouth and suck on it. Instead he smiles before turning to Sam who’s still hiding behind his menu. “How ‘bout you, Sam?”

“The sausage hash brown casserole looks good.” The teenager risks a glance at his father and brother and smiles when he finds them not being all cute and cuddly. “What are we doing today?”

“Do you wanna go see the Falls today or would you rather wait?”

“Since you bought us Adventure Packs, we might as well start now. We’re only here for a week.”

Castiel looks at his watch and clears his throat. “Well, it’s already kinda late.”

“Because you two had to ‘sleep in’,” Sam counters, complete with air quotes and pursed lips.

Dean ignores his brother’s mocked disgust. “We could spend our first day in town and plan our Adventure tour over the next couple of days. There’s a ton of fun crap to do.”

“The scary stuff?” Sam asks, his eyes shining with delight.

“The scary stuff!” Dean confirms with a maniacal grin.

“You’ll be doing that without me,” Castiel warns them.

“What are you gonna do?” they both ask, smiling at one another like every time they speak as one.

“There’s a couple of real museums I’d prefer to visit.”

A server comes to take their order and leaves swiftly after pouring them some more coffee.

“When should we schedule our helicopter tour?” Castiel then asks his son. Except it’s Dean who answers.

“You should do this shit on the last day. This way, if you guys die in a crash, at least we’ll have done everything else.”

Castiel can’t be surprised about his boyfriend’s response. And although they know how Dean is scared of flying, neither Cas or Sam is willing to pass up the opportunity of a bird’s eye view on the Falls.

“We won’t die,” Cas somewhat promises as he kisses the hand he’s holding.

Sam chuckles while Dean huffs and has to reply. “Says who?”

“I do,” Castiel answers before glancing at Sam who’s playing on his phone. He then looks back at Dean, a silent question in his eyes.

Dean smiles and nods, knowing exactly what’s on the older man’s mind. They both turn to Sam, smiling.

“So, Sam, there’s something you should know about last night,” Castiel starts to say, only to be cut off by his son.

“Look, Dad, I really don’t need to know what gets you guys going. Thanks for the separate room, by the way.”

“Not that, you freak! Your dad and me, we’re gonna get married.”

“Dean!” Castiel says, making Dean turn to him he sounds so shocked.

“What? I thought you—”

“I did, but you could have eased him into it.”

Castiel’s own worry is enough for Dean’s heart to start racing. He looks back at Sam to find him with a smile on his face.

“For real?” the teenager says, sounding oddly excited. “You’re gettin’ married here this week? That should be the first thing we do!”

When Cas and Dean chuckle, it’s mostly out of relief. “Of course not,” Castiel says. “We want to do this the right way, with all our friends and family.”

“Still, we’ll be doing this mainly because…” Dean pauses, suddenly worried about how the rest of the news could be taken. “Because we wanna adopt Timmy. It’ll be easier to do if we’re actually married.”

The questions Dean had expected Sam to ask don’t come. Instead, he’s looking at the both of them with a concentrated frown. Dean suddenly feels as if his whole insides have turned to stone.

“Say something, please,” Castiel says, his hand in a tight grip on Dean’s thigh.

Sam nods, his gaze travelling between his brother and father. He’s squinting when he stops on Dean. “You think you can do that? You know, with your criminal record and all…”

For once, it’s Dean who clears his throat. “Well… there’s a chance it won’t work, yeah. That’s why we’re hoping that getting married will help our case. This, and I gotta stay sober. Plus, we got Sonny on our side. He’s gonna help us out.”

Sam chuckling isn’t the reaction Dean and Castiel had been expecting. They glance at one another, worried.

“So… this means that my dad is gonna marry my brother and have another kid. That other kid will be my brother and call my dad Dad, but he’ll also call my other brother Dad. Don’t you guys think it’s a little confusing?”

“I get what you’re saying, Sam, I really do. Still, I don’t think Dean will want Timmy to call him Dad.”

“I’ve known the kid for years, always considered him like my little brother. My other little brother,” Dean says with a gentle smile. “I just don’t want him to go through the same thing I did. He’s got no family out there. He doesn’t have a Sammy to hold onto.”

“Are you okay with this?” Castiel asks, now holding Dean’s hand over the table. Sam may have been accepting of their relationship, marriage and a kid would make things much more real and permanent.

Dean’s heart drops when Sam’s expression turns serious again. He squeezes Castiel’s hand who lets out a soft yelp. “Sam?”

The teenager raises a warning finger as he leans forward. “As long as you don’t ask me to call you dad, we’re golden! I got way too many of those already. Plus, I’m not about to lose my older brother again.”

Dean smiles, knowing that this is the one promise he can make.

“And you never will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading!!! I hope you it entertained you, or moved you, or even amused you (who am I to judge what people find amusing, huh?)
> 
> Please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts or ask any question you may have, I’ll be super happy to read and respond to all of you.
> 
> Until next time!!! :D Happy DCBB! (or happy whatever if you’re reading this when it’s not DCBB time… like… Xmas maybe? Merry Xmas!!)
> 
>  
> 
> P.S.: After getting a comment about this, here’s something you might like to know about some little things I have left standing.
> 
> THE ADOPTION MISHAP: Sadly, the whole "kids getting separated" kinda fell through the cracks. I had a mind at first to revisit this, but then I forgot, and when I noticed it was already close to too late. I didn’t want to half ass it either. Still, my own take on this all would all have been due to human error, basically. The kids could have been sent to different places at first, for lack of room or any other reason… miscommunications, clerical errors, a number of things could have happened that would have lead to this. I don’t have a definite explanation to give you, sadly. It’s open to interpretation, I guess.
> 
> IS SAMUEL NOVAK REALLY SAM WINCHESTER? Nobody has asked that (yet), but I myself have wondered and thought about adding something in about that. Yet I didn’t and the answer is simple: Yes, he is. What you didn’t see was Cas being able to get Dean’s DNA checked when Dean was in the hospital that first time… he just never said anything about it. The reason YOU don’t know about it is that I wrote this piece from Dean’s perspective. So if Cas did something without telling Dean, then Dean doesn’t know… which means you don’t get to know either.


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